Love Conquers
by potter4granger
Summary: Hermione likes to have control, also for things to be perfect. These two qualities can often mix, and lead to a disasterous outcome, or in Hermione's case, anorexia. What happens when on top of it all, she finds out she loves none other than Draco Malfoy?
1. Good News For People Who Love Bad News

Chapter One

Seventeen-year-old Hermione Granger sat on her bed of her parents' home staring out the window while sketching random images in the journal she had recieved as a birthday present two years ago from her father. Summer break had come almost too soon, and as much as she loved her parents Hemione was anxious to get back to the life she had become accustumed to living. She missed everything about Hogwarts, from visiting Hagrid with her best friends Harry and Ron to the ghosts walking straight through you, sending chills up your back.

As close as her friends had been the past five years, it seemed as though they barely knew each other this summer. Harry was already at the Weasley's, no doubt making up for the two weeks he lost without his fiery haired girlfriend of two months, Ginny Weasley. Even Ron had managed to find someone to spend his time with, Lavender Brown, who was surprisingly at the Burrow as well. Ron had written Hermione and asked her to join them, but when she discovered that "Lav Lav" was going to be there she politely declined. She would have been bored out of her skull sitting around the lopsided house, watching her two best friends snog the brains out of their new girlfriends. She had told the tall red-head that her parents wished she would spend the summer with them, as they missed her throughout the year. Ron, being as gullible as he always was, had believed her.

"Hermione!"

Hermione snapped out of her trance and cast one last long look out the window at the sunset that was forming in front of her. With that she gently closed her journal and walked into the hallway.

"Yes mum?" She asked, slightly annoyed at being disturbed from her thoughts.

"Dinner's ready, dear," Her mother replied gently.

"Oh, I'm not all that hungry," Hermione lied easily,"I knew I shouldn't have had that bar of chocolate earlier."

"Oh, okay then, I'll put a plate in the microwave if you feel like a little something later."

Hermione nodded quickly and walked lightly back into her room. Upon entering the overly pink room (her mother's doing), she walked straight over to the full length mirror hanging on the opposite side.

"I'm so fat," she whispered, staring at her reflection. She pinched the non-existant fat on her thighs, and then her stomach. She then took the two steps over to her scale and stepped on. Numbers flashed for a few seconds but then finally decided on 125 pounds.

Hermione sighed deeply, realizing she had only lost 2 pounds that week. Her parents had become suspicious and subtley forced her to eat meals, never mentioning anything was wrong. She had went for a run every morning, 3 miles, in desperation to work off the calories she had consumed the day before. She considered herself lucky her mother had let her go only minutes before so easily.

The brunette walked over to her bedside table and pulled open the top drawer, grabbed her journal, and flopped, stomach down, onto her bed. She turned the pages quickly, eventually getting to the back in the secret section. She wrote _"Current Weight-125 pounds. Goal Weight for next Monday-120 pounds"_ and then closed the book. Rolling over onto her back, Hermione stared up at the ceiling wondering what had happened to the confident, brave, Gryffindor, she had been only a month ago. She pondered this for a moment, before remembering that Malfoy had happened. Hermione remembered the day as if it were yesterday.

_It was a Saturday afternoon and she was sitting in the library, completely surrounded by books. It had been dead silent, exactly the way she liked it, until Draco Malfoy and a gang of Slytherins came strutting in like they owned the place. She could hear the group nearing her and she hoped that they would leave her in peace for once so that she could continue with her homework. She knew this was probably not going to happen and was not surprised when she heard Draco Malfoy's voice echo through the room. _

_"Ugh, I thought i recognized that stench," he drawled, causing the others to laugh annoyingly. _

_"What do you want Malfoy?" she asked rudely. _

_"Oh, nothing really. Just saw the pile of books and wondered what loser would be sitting in here on such a beautiful day," he said loudly. _

_Hermione rolled her eyes,"Not all of us want to fail Transfiguration." _

_It was now Draco's turn to send his eyes for a loop, "Granger, there are two days left in the term, this is the last homework assignment, and i honestly doubt McGonagal expects anyone to actually do it!" He chuckled loudly. "You should be outside getting some exercise, god only knows you need it!" _

_Hermione glared at him, "And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Ferret?" _

_"Oh, nothing really, other then, you seem to have really been packing it on lately Mudblood," He said viscously. "Everyone can tell you've gained more than a few pounds!" _

_Hermione could feel her eyes filling with tears as she gathered up her books as quickly as she could and ran out of the library as fast as her legs would allow, the Slytherin's laughter loud behind her._

Hermione's thoughts were interupted by her cellular phone vibrating in her pocket.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, beautiful."

Hermione laughed, "Hey Robbie, or should i say Romeo?" She had met Robbie on one of her many runs a couple weeks ago. They now ran together every morning and often hung out in the afternoon.

Robbie chuckled lightly, "Robbie's fine. What are you doing?"

"Nothing really, you?" She asked.

"Hoping you will grace me with your presence for a walk in about...one minute," He said casually.

"One minute?" Hermione asked, "How could you possibly be here in that amount of time?"

"Ah, well, you see, did you consider the possibility that I am calling you from right outside your window?" He asked, laughing slightly.

"I'll be down in one second," Hermione said, rushed, as she hung up the phone and raced around her room to find more suitable clothes. She finally decided on jeans with a regular black t-shirt. _"Black is very slimming,"_ she thought to herself.

Hermione ran downstairs towards the front door, stopping only momentarily to tell her parents she was going for a walk and would be home soon. She stopped at the front door and glanced at herself in the mirror next to her while she composed herself. The truth was, Hermione was lonely this summer and had developed a crush on Robbie. She slowly opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, glancing around for any sign of him. She stood confused for a few seconds while trying to locate him, and jumped when she felt someone tap her on the back.

"Boo."

"You scared me, you idiot!" Hermione said, reprimanding him.

"Sorry," He said, not looking the least bit apologetic. "You ready?"

"I'm out here aren't I?" She asked good-naturedly.

"Yes, well, I suppose you've got me there," Robbie said as he jumped down the porch steps. And began to walk down the walkway, Hermione hot on his heals.

"So, where do you wanna go?" She asked.

"Hmm, have you eaten dinner yet?" He asked in a bored tone.

"Er, well, no, not really..." She said, not wanting to lie to him just yet.

"Okay then, we can go to Johnny's Diner," he said happily.

"Erm, alright."

They continued to walk in silence. Hermione was happy with this silence, it was not the awkward kind a couple would endure on a first date, it was more of a friendly, nothing to talk about silence. They got to Johnny's and Robbie held open the door for her, causing her to smile. They sat down at a small table and waited for their waitress, who arrived minutes later to give them their menu's and get their drink orders.

"I'll have a Pepsi," Robbie said.

"And how about you?" The waitress asked politely.

"A water please," Hermione said, looking down.

"Alright, I'll be right back to take you orders," The waitress replied walking away.

Robbie looked at his menu for a moment and then closed it and looked up at Hermione. "What are you gunna get?" He asked.

"Oh, er, I'm not too sure yet. What about you?" She questioned awkwardly.

"Hmm, I think I'll get a cheeseburger with everything on it," He said, still thinking. "Oh! And a large order of fries. Can't forget the fries," He smiled. The waitress was back now, and taking their orders. Robbie repeated his and Hermione looked up timidly.

"Uh, I'll just have a salad," She said.

"Okay, your food should be here soon," The waitress said, walking away again.

"Only a salad Hermione? Are you trying to lose _all _that extra weight you're carrying around?" He asked sarcastically.

"Shut up Robbie! I know whats wrong with me and I'm trying to fix it, alright?" She practically yelled.

"Hermione...I was only joking with you. You're quite skinny, actually." He said cautiously.

"Yes, well, it wasn't funny!" She said angrily.

"Gee, I'm sorry Hermione," He said.

"Its alright," She said sadly. "I'm a bit uptight tonight, eh? I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have jumped on you like that."

Robbie laughed, "All right, well since both of us have apologized, can we eat our food now?" He asked, indicating the food that had just been placed in front of them.

"Sure," She said picking up her fork and taking a tiny bite of her salad. Within ten minutes Robbie had finished his meal, along with two sodas. Hermione had eaten a total of four bites of her salad, causing Robbie to glance at her worriedly.

"Your food alright Hermione?" He asked politetly.

"Yes, it was great. I'm just not all that hungry tonight," She said with a small smile.

"Oh, okay," He said shrugging it off. He put down some money and they walked out of the diner, and into the warm summer's night air. They had been walking in that comfortable silence for two minutes when Robbie grabbed her hand. She glanced at him quickly, only to see him smiling warmly back at her. They continued on this way until they reached Hermione's house, where he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, said goodnight, and walked away


	2. All That You Must Leave Behind

Chapter Two

Summer break seemed to have flown by for Hermione and Robbie. About a week before the end of the summer, Hermione had gotten her letter from Hogwarts, which included her list of books that she would need for her seventh and final year of school, and to her great surprise and pleasure, a letter that informed her that she had been chosen as Head Girl. She was very anxcious to find out who Head Boy would be, since after all they would be sharing a Dormitory. Robbie happened to have been there when she got this letter, and at her squeal of delight, asked her what it was. She had lied of course and said it was a letter from her aunt who had said she would be moving back to their neighborhood. After their night at dinner Robbie and Hermione had continued to get closer until he finally asked her to be his girlfriend. She had gladly agreed, and something within her seemed to change. She was happier, her parents noticed, so they didn't even mind if they caught them snogging in the living room while a movie was playing the the background. Seeing her face light up again was a great thing, and they never wanted to lose it. Hermione tried to keep dates that didn't require eating, but one could only do that so often and anyone could tell that Robbie was becoming more and more worried and suspicious.

It was their last day together before Hermione had to go back to Hogwarts, and Robbie was due over in ten minutes so he could watch her pack (everything except books and magical items of course, which really wasn't much at all) and discuss what was going to happen to "them." Hermione heard the doorbell ring and the sound of her mother's voice as she answered it. She ran a tiny bit of her Sleekeazy hair straightening balm through her hair to ensure it was completely straight and ran happily downstairs. On the bottom step she paused and watched Robbie walk toward her. "Oh I'm going to miss him," she thought sadly as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. They then wordlessly continued upstairs, where he sat quietly on her bed, and pulled her onto his lap.

"Hermione, we need to talk," He said in almost a whisper.

"Those are the four worst words I have ever heard," She replied in a tone that matched his.

"I don't think we should be together anymore."

She sat there, stunned, taking in his words. "Why not?"

"You know perfectly well why not. You're off to school tomorrow miles away, and I will be here. Long distance things never work out, you know that just as well as I do."

"But-but I'll be home on the holidays," She said hopefully.

"Yes, but-"

"And we can write each other," She added, not knowing how that would work out seeing as he might find it a bit odd if an owl appeared at his window daily with a letter from her, rather than the Muggle post.  
"Hermione, don't make this any harder than it has to be," He said quietly, as tears began to fall down her cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs and kissed her slowly on the lips, taking in as much of her as he could in these few minutes. Finally they broke away, shared a small hug, and he got up and walked out her door, leaving her crying alone in her overly pink room.

Hermione finally got herself together about two hours after Robbie left and began throwing things into her trunk, more mad then she could ever remember being. "A long distance relationship could have worked out!" She thought. "We would have Christmas, and Easter, and all summer! Doesn't he like me at all? I suppose he didn't! And now he's gone and left me all alone. I won't have Ron or Harry! Oh, they'll say they're 'here for me' but they really aren't. They're far too busy with their girlfriends!"

Finally finshed packing she threw herself down onto her bed, curled up in a ball to try and subdue the hunger pains, and fell into a fitfull sleep.

The next morning Hermione awoke with a jump when her Muggle alarm clock went off and disturbed her dreams. She was quite happy at first, until she remembered what had happened the day before. She slowly got dressed and decided to wear clothes that fit her mood. She walked over to her closet and grabbed a pair of dark jeans, and a black sweatshirt that clung to her in all the right places. After getting dressed she began to put on her make-up. Normally, she would put on a small amount of eyeliner, that did almost nothing for her eyes, but today she layered it on, and instead of looking fake and horrible like it did on some girls it really brought out the honey color of her eyes. After doing her make-up she put on her favorite black Converses and dragged her trunk downstairs, ready to be driven to Kings Cross and get this year over with.

"Ready to go, hon?" Her mother asked sweetly.

"Yeah."

"Do you have everything?" Her father questioned.

"Yes! Now could we please get going?" Hermione didn't mean to snap at her parents but she was not in the mood and just wanted to get out of the house.

The drive to Kings Cross seemed to take longer than it usually did and when they got there she gave each of her parents a quick hug and kiss and walked quickly through the barrier. She stood on the other side looking up at the Hogwarts Express, sighed deeply, walked onto the train, and into headed down the hall into the Prefects compartment.

She stepped inside, surprised to find many other people already there. She walked over to Ron, who was the Gryffindor seventh year Prefect and sat down next to him.

"Hi Ron," she said quietly.

"What?" He asked, just snapping out of the daze he was in. "Oh, hey 'Mione. Sorry, I'm bloody tired. How was your break?"

"It was fine. Just fine," she answered. "And yours?"

"Oh, it was amazing. It was great having Lavender there."

"I'm sure it was."

"Yeah...-hey! Hermione, you look different," He said, as if really noticing her for the first time.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Like, not bad different, you look good! Have you lost weight?"

"Maybe, I haven't really noticed," She lied, while trying to supress a smile.

"Oh, well, anyways you look great."

"Thanks Ron," Hermione said quietly. Just then a loud voice shot through the large compartment.

"Hey Mudblood!" Draco Malfoy called. "You better get up here with me to start this meeting, or I will have to speak to Dumbledore about getting your Head Girl status revoked."

"Wha- Malfoy! You're Head Boy?" Hermione asked, obviously shocked and angry.

"Yeah, I am, now get up here and start this meeting!"

After the meeting was over Hermione rushed out of the compartment with Ron, desperate to get away from the ferret. They walked down the hallway, popping their heads into random compartments until they found the one which held Harry Potter and Ginevera Weasley. Upon entering, Ron put a large hand in front of his eyes and asked,

"Is it safe? Can I open my eyes?"

Harry laughed, "Yes Ron, its safe."

Ron pulled the hand away from his eyes and shakily said, "Good, the last thing I need is to find my best mate and kid sister making out right in front of me again."

Hermione stared, "You've seen them doing it before?"

"Well, let's just say that Ron forgot to knock one day and when he walked in Gin and I were in a very...compromising position," Harry chuckled.

"Compromising!" Ron exploaded. "Both of you were naked from the waist up!"

At this, Ginny blushed a color to rival her hair, and Hermione and Harry burst into a fit of laughter.

"It was not funny!" Ron exclaimed. "That was a sight I was not ready to see. I will NEVER be ready to see my little sister without a bloody shirt on!"

This comment only resulted in more laughter, this time with Ginny joining in.

"Hey, have either of you guys seen Lavender?" Ron asked after the laughter had faded away.

"No mate, we haven't, sorry," Said Harry.

"Ah well I guess I should go look fo-," Ron stopped abrubtly when the compartment door flew open, revealing a very angry Lavender.

"Won Won!" She exclaimed. "You said you'd come find me after your Prefects meeting! And now I come in here to find you you sitting next to...her." She indicated to Hermione.

"Sorry, Lavender, I forgot," Ron said sheepishly.

"It's alright, but you know you are going to have to make it up to me later," She replied with a suggestive wink.

Hermione slid as far over as she could on her seat, trying to make room for Lavender, while at the same time rolling her eyes in disgust. Only she need not to have, Lavender decided she would much rather plop herself down on Ron's lap, which she did, earning a very dirty look from a very jealous Hermione. They quickly engaged in fast whispers, as did Harry and Ginny, leaving Hermione feeling very left out and alone. She didn't like Ron exactly, but she had thought he liked her, and it was sort of comforting knowing that someone had feelings for you, other than just a friend. She knew this was horrible, and she should be happy for Ron, since after all he was one of her best friends, but she just couldn't be, and she hated herself for it.

She stared around the Compartment, completely bored, and decided to take out her journal and draw. She did this for the remainder of the trip to Hogwarts, only putting it down for a moment when she pulled on her robes and finally put it back in her trunk when the Hogwarts Express had come to a complete stop. The group stood and got off the train, Hurrying to get a carriage up to the school. When they had arrived they hopped out and rushed inside the large castle, to escape the rain which had begun to fall.

They tried to refrain from slipping on the wet floor, while at the same time trying to dodge Peeves' inkpellets that he had decided would be entertaining to flick at the random passerbys. They walked into the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. Soon, Professor McGonagal led the first years into the large room. One by one they sat on the three-legged stool and waiting for the old sorting hat to announce which house they would spend the next seven years in. After the last student (Ramelia Zylander) was sorted into Hufflepuff, Dumbledore stood up.

"I know you are all anxious to get to the feast, so all I will say for now, is welcome faces new and old. And now, we eat!"

With that hundreds of golden plates filled with food, and all the Hogwarts students started to dig in. All that is, except one. Hermione was staring down at her plate, with a look of disgust.

"What's wrong 'Mione?" Harry asked. "Not feeling well?"

Hermione panicked, "Oh, no, I just ate a lot on the train is all," She said without thinking.

Harry nodded, while Ron, who had been with her the whole time, shot her a strange look. He said nothing though, and for this she was thankful. The meal continued on, Hermione pretty much just sat there, looking around and watching people. She had gotten quite good at watching people, since she just faded into the crowd anyways. She noticed Harry put his hand under the table and squeeze Ginnys thigh, saw Professor Snape slip in and walk up to the teachers table, seemingly unnoticed by all the other students, and saw Ron gazing lovingly at Lavender, surprised he had stopped eating for even a moment. His gaze then wandered, eventually leading to Hermione. He glanced at her, then her plate, then back at her again with a worried expression clearly written across his face. Hermione just stared at him, her own expression hard and unreadable. Before he had a chance to say anything though, the hall fell silent, and Hermione saw that Dumbledore had stood up and was in the middle of his speech.

"...The Forbidden Forest, is as always, off limits, and though the older students should already know, this is a reminder for you too. Mr. Filch has been kind enough to give me a list of all objects that are banned, but as this list is much too lengthy, and it would take up much of our evening, I will hang it on his door, where you may all check it. To continue, you all know that Lord Voldemort has rose again, I am sure. All I want to say is, this is your school, a place where you should feel safe. I have done everything in my power to ensure that you do. Let me also say that now would be the time to broaden your friendships, I hope that this year we can strengthen our inter-house relationships. That is all. Goodnight, and welcome back!"

Everyone rose from their seats and Hermione realized that she should be leading the Gryffindor first years to their Dormitory.

She walked to the head of the table and shouted, "Gryffindors, this way please!" As loud as she could and was happy to see that they were following her.

She glanced behind her and was once again surprised by how small and scared they looked. She doubted that she was ever that tiny, although she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she was; they all had been. They reached the Fat Lady's portrait and she spoke the password (bowtruckle) and let them all inside. She glanced around the room, instantly feeling at home again. Hermione walked over to the squishy armchairs and sank into one, a completely relaxed feeling washing over her. She was joined momentarily by Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Lavender, and it was only when they reminded her that she remembered she was supposed to be down in her own Dormitory.

She rushed downstairs and headed towards the kitchens and took a left, following a long hallway to where she knew the Head Boy and Girls rooms lay. She spotted a very angry looking Draco Malfoy waiting outside a portrait of an old smiling witch and walked over to him.

"Took you long enough, Mudblood," He said evily. "What, did you get lost?"

"No Malfoy, I did not. I simply was sitting in my old Common Room for a while."

"Yes, well, we don't have time for that, we have to wait for Dumbledore to tell us the password and he should be here any second."

It was then that Professor Dumbledore appeared, strolling down the hallway, his purple robes billowing behind him.

He approached them and smiled, "Good evening Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," He said pleasantly.

"Good evening Sir," Hermione replied.

"I know this is a bit of a risk, putting you together to live, considering your history, but I thought it was a risk worth taking. Anyways, your new password is 'Love Conquers'."

Both Hermione and Draco raised their eyebrows at this, but walked quickly through the portrait hole when it opened, desperate to get away from each other, and both completely forgetting about the old wizard that was still standing outside when the door slammed shut. 


	3. With Tired Eyes, Tired Souls, We Slept

Chapter Three

Hermione scurried into the dormitory that she would call home for the next ten months or so. When she entered the Common Room she gasped. It was beautiful. The room had a marble entrance, that transformed into a gorgeous, open room of orange and gold. The couches looked even more comfortable than the ones in Hermione's old Common Room and she couldn't wait to sit in front of the fire, curled up with a book, late at night.

She glanced around a bit more and noticed there was a very large kitchen, which Malfoy was standing in, examining the contents of the fridge. She walked up the large staircase and saw there were two doors, across the hall from one another. One door had a lovely gold plate, with the initials H.J.G. carved in, and the other D.L.M. **(A/N- I have no idea what Draco's middle name is, so I just put in a random initial. If you do happen to know, please inform me so that I can change it)** She quickly walked over to the door with her initials on it and turned the delicate knob. She stepped inside the threshold and her mouth dropped open at what she saw.

The room was decorated entirely of red and gold, the obvious Gryffindor colors. There was a king-sized bed sitting off to one side, a large vanity, bookshelf, desk, and fireplace. It was then that she noticed the two doors, both on oposite sides of the room. She chose to enter the one on the left first, and was delighted to find a large, walk-in closet. She then padded over to the right side of the large room and stepped inside. It was a bathroom nicer than the Prefects one. There was a huge, pool-sized bathtub, and a shower that looked like it could fit ten comfortably. Everything was made out of marble and Hermione knew she would be spending a lot of time in this room, relaxing.

She then walked back into her bedroom and out her door, hoping to find Malfoy, to be polite and ask him if his room was to his liking as well. This was her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and she did not want to be completely miserable the whole time. She spotted him sitting on one of the large couches of the Common Room and plopped down next to him.

"Did you like your room?" she asked sweetly.

Draco shot her a glare, "It was fine."

"Well, that's good..." Hermione trailed off, not knowing where exactly to take this conversation.

"Look Granger," The blonde boy said, "Just because we are being forced to live together, doesn't make us friends. You are still a bushy-haired, insufferable, know-it-all Mudblood, and nothing will change that."

"Malfoy, I don't _want_ to be your friend, believe me. I just don't want our last year to be horrid, just because we are living together," she exclaimed. "I would _never_ want to be your friend. You are a stuck up, arrogant, prat, and honestly, I am not too sure how I am going to put up with you for the remainder of this year!"

"Glad we settled that," He snarled.

"As am I."

With that Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, and walked swiftly towards the portrait hole. After climbing out, she let her feet take her where they would. Being Head Girl, did have one advantage, she was allowed out at any time of night. She continued to walk, surprised when she discovered she was in the Astronomy Tower. She walked over to the ledge, and leaned on her elbows, looking up at the moon in the sky. It felt like she had only been there for a few minutes when she was snapped out of her trance by a loud growl from her stomach, but looking down at her watch, she discovered it had been nearly two hours, and it was almost one o'clock in the morning.

She practically ran back to the portrait of the old smiling witch, and quickly spoke the password.

"Love Conquers!"

The witch gave her a knowing wink, and opened up, Hermione climbing right through the hole and into her Common Room. She expected to find the room dark and empty, or lit by the fire, but never did she expect what she saw. Draco Malfoy was sitting on a couch in front of the fire, staring off into space, and jumped up when he noticed Hermione standing there.

"Where were you?" He shouted.

"I went for a walk...to clear my head," Hermione replied nervously. "Why is it any of _your _business?"

"It just is, all right?" Malfoy exclaimed before turning on his heel, and walking up the staircase and into his room, the door slamming loudly shut behind him.

The next morning Hermione woke up at seven o'clock, which was perfect timing. She had one hour to get ready, and then a half hour for "breakfast", which would really just be sitting and watching others eat, and then she was off to class at eight thirty.

She stood up, and walked through the door on the right side of her room, the bathroom, and took a twenty minute bath, trying to relax, so that she could enjoy the first day of classes. She then got out and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her small frame. Hermione walked back into her bedroom, reached for her Hogwarts uniform from her closet, and pulled it on.

Then she had to deal with her hair. The day before she had left it curly and unmanageable, the way her classmates were used to seeing it, not wanting to surprise them. Today, she decided, she would wear it straight, since she liked it better that way.

"To hell what they think," she muttered to herself.

She ran her hair straightening balm through her hair and put on a touch of make-up to complete her look. She then got up from her vanity and after casting one last look in her full-length mirror, walked out of her bedroom door, heading down the staircase.

She reached the bottom and took a look at her watch. It was seven forty-five, so she still had fifteen minutes until she should head to breakfast. Hermione glanced around, wondering what she should do to fill the time, when she heard a loud bang from the kitchen, and a muffled yell. She headed towards the source of the noise, where she found Malfoy, who it appeared had just dropped a pan full of hot water. He took out his wand and cleared the mess, and placed two plates on the small table in the middle of the room.

"Breakfast," he mumbled to Hermione, looking her over and examining her hair.

"Oh, well, I think I'm going to just eat in the Great Hall with my friends," Hermione muttered awkwardly.

"Suit yourself."

The boy then took out the wand he had stashed inside his cloak only moments before and cleared the second plate, sitting down and picking up his fork to eat his own.

Hermione stood there, in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing what to do with herself. She walked slowly over to the table and perched herself on the chair opposite the cold Slytherin.

"So..." she said slowly.

"I was thinking last night Granger," Malfoy started. "And I think we should be civil to each other. It _is _our last year in this place."

"Yeah, I agree," Hermione said slowly.

"But it still doesn't mean we're friends. Or even that I like you, because I don't."

"Same here," she said defensively.

Hermione got up and walked out of the room, and through the portrait hole. It was now eight o'clock, and she would be expected downstairs for breakfast. She walked through the Great Hall, and over to the Gryffindor table, which was already close to full. After a moments search she spotted Ron, Harry, Ginny, and Lavender and walked over to them.

"Hello," she said brightly.

"Hey 'Mione," Ron replied with his mouth full.

Hermione sat down on Ron's other side, earning her a very dirty look from Lavender.

"Wan' anythin' to eat?" Ron asked, still chewing.

"Oh, no thanks," she said. "My dormitory has a kitchen, so I already ate."

Everyone nodded their heads, none really paying attention to what she was saying, but pretended they were. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, but were interrupted by Ginny squealing when Harry tickled her leg. Hermione glanced around, and was surprised to see Malfoy enter the room, his eyes fixed on her. He walked by the Gryffindor table, and sat down at the Slytherin one, still not breaking his gaze. Hermione looked away, and stared down at her full plate, that she hadn't even noticed she had filled. She pushed it away quickly, and began to talk about classes with her friends.

"Ugh, potions first with the Slytherins," Harry grumbled.

"I swear if that greasy git says one thing the wrong way to me, I will break his big bloody nose," Ron said darkly, but everyone knew it was an empty threat.

"Yes, well, I'm rather excited for Divination," Lavender, who hadn't made it to the N.E.W.T. potions class, said happily.

Hermione muttered under her breath, "You would be," but went unheard.

"Well, at least that is one subject we won't have to suffer through anymore Harry," Ron said brightly.

Harry nodded and Hermione looked down at her watch.

"Well, It's eight twenty-five now boys," she said. "We should probably head toward the dungeons, I for one don't want a detention on the first day back."

The two boys nodded and stood, each giving a kiss to their girlfriends, and the three friends walked through the giant doors.They walked in silence, though it wasn't the kind of silence Hermione enjoyed, it was the awkward, no one has any idea what to say silence, and she couldn't stand it.

"So, what do you think we will have to do today?" she asked nervously, not being able to remember the last time she was nervous around Harry and Ron.

"Probably something hard," Ron said. "He'll take every chance to make asses out of us."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Especially us three."

The conversation stopped there, but Hermione didn't have to come up with a new topic because they had reached the potions room. They walked inside and saw about ten other people already there.

"Thank you, for _finally _gracing us with your presence, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled. "Five points each, from Gryffindor should teach you not to be late to my class."

"But we were right on time!" Harry exclaimed.

"You were the last one's here, Mr. Potter, therefore making you late, now take a seat before you have a detention."

The trio took their seats at a table near the back of the room and glared ahead at their Professor.

"Today you will be making a truth potion. It is not as strong as Vetereserum, and can easily be overcome by powerful wizards. Your directions," Snape tapped the board with his wand, "Are on the board. You have one hour, get going."

The class hurried to get started, seeing that the potion looked very difficult and would probably take the entire class to make.

About thirty minutes had passed when Snape called out, "Your potions should now be a pink color," before falling silent again.

Harry shook his head angrily, as his potion was a vibrant green, and Ron's a delicate blue. Hermione, however, was being very successful, and her potion was the suggested color. She smiled a bit at this and kept going, push a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and glancing over at Malfoy, who was also looking pleased with himself.

Snape was now beginning to walk around the room, examining everyone's potions. He walked from table to table, finally reaching the trio's.

"Well well, Mr. Potter, I see you will be starting this term off with a zero," he said, glancing at Harry's now brown muck, and vanishing it.

Harry was fuming, but surprisingly didn't say anything, after Hermione whispered "It's not worth it."

The Professor completely skipped over Ron, and looked down at Hermione's, and finding nothing bad to say about it, continued on.

Five minutes before class was over, Snape ordered them to put a sample of their potion in a vile, and clearly write their names on it, to receive marks. After doing this the class headed out, desperate to get away from the hook-nosed teacher.

"Well, at least we don't have any homework," Ron said happily.

"Yeah, I thought he was going to load it on," Harry added.

Hermione wasn't really paying attention to the two, but was watching Draco Malfoy as he walked in front of them, alone.

_"I wonder where all his friends are," _she thought. _"He probably gave them the slip, he didn't seem to like them much anyway. It's a good thing too, they were such horrid people. He should spend his time being with people who will actually get somewhere in life." _Hermione found herself surprised she was thinking about Malfoy like this, but knew that he couldn't possibly be _all_ bad. She sighed and continued on to Transfiguration with her two friends, just wanting this day to be over so she could go back to her dormitory and take a nap, as she hadn't gotten much sleep last night. They finally reached the door and Hermione stepped inside, thinking _"Soon enough,"_ and took her seat.

**A/N-Okay, well there it is. I know this chapter was rather boring, just details that I had to fill in really, but it will get better, I swear. This one also wasn't as long as chapter 2, but it was longer than chapter 1. I'm sorry for taking a little bit to update, but schools been bearing down harder than usual. I will try to update sooner this time, but the one thing that _always _speeds me up is reviews. So do it.**


	4. The Trick Is To Keep Breathing

**Chapter Four**

Days passed by quickly for Hermione, she enjoyed her classes-but that was to be expected- and her, Harry and Ron were finally close again, as if nothing had happened to disturb the perfect cycle they had been in before the long summer weeks that seemed to change everything. The trio were probably closer than ever actually, only Hermione wasn't there quite as much, to "help" them with their homework, seeing as she had her own dormitory and Head duties shes was responsible for. Surprisingly, not even a week after school started, Ron and Lavender had decided to go their separate ways, after a very public fight in the Great Hall. Ginny and Harry however, still remained strong, their feelings obvious to everyone around them; they loved each other.

Couples seemed to be sprouting everywhere you turned at Hogwarts. All you would see lately were boy and girl walking hand in hand to class, and pairs exchanging quick kisses before heading into a classroom. Hermione always looked sourly at these couples, feeling rather jealous, and wishing that she could find someone to be there for her. Oh, she knew that Harry and Ron were, but she wanted someone to be there in a different way. Someone to take her to Hogsmeade and pay for her butterbeer, someone to wait for her outside her Ancient Runes classroom to walk her to lunch, someone to give her a back massage after a long night of patrolling the corridors.

Her and Draco had surprisingly grown closer though. Although, closer was probably not the correct word. They were not even remotely close to being friends, but they were used to each others company. Draco was growing on Hermione, and she was noticing things about him she had never picked up on before, like the way his platinum blonde hair hung delicately in his eyes when he didn't have it gelled back, and how his eyes seemed to shine brighter in the sunlight. He wasn't even as mean as she once thought he was; he would _never _go to bed until Hermione was safely inside their dormitory for example, and seemed to worry about her when she rejected food, (which was almost always) and she could tell he didn't buy her sad excuses for a moment. On some occasions he would offer to patrol for her at night, noticing how tired she looked and she would gladly accept with a few words of thanks.

Though she was still not even close to being happy with her body, other people were noticing changes, so she assumed there must be subtle ones, even if she didn't see them. Her morning ritual was to wake up and walk directly into the bathroom and onto the scale. This was always met with disappointment; the number was just never low enough. After this she would be depressed all through "breakfast", and her first class, where the tiredness would kick in. Not eating really seemed to take a toll on her brain, she was finding it hard to stay awake in class, nevermind answer all the questions as people were expecting. She kept up the act though, knowing that she had to, or people would begin to become suspicious, and that was the last thing she needed right now.

Hermione jumped awake, startled, from her dream that she could now not remember. She thought for a moment, and remembered that it was Saturday, meaning no classes. She still felt so exhausted, and stomach pains were coursing through her. She wanted to get at least another couple hours sleep, after glancing at the clock and seeing that it was only eight o'clock. _"Maybe I can sleep through breakfast,"_ she thought hopefully, before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.

_Hermione glanced around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a grassy field, all alone, and there wasn't a soul for what looked like miles. She wondered what she was doing here, but made no action to move forward._

_Draco Malfoy then appeared, seemly from thin air, and stood in front of her, just staring._

_"Malfoy?" she asked. "What are we doing here?"_

_The blonde boy just stared at her._

_"Malfoy!"_

_Stare._

_"Hello?" _

_Hermione walked over to him and he backed away. She tried again, moving forward quicker this time, but he stepped away just as fast. She ran after him and he turned around and ran too. They continued this for what felt like miles, without either of them getting tired. They soon reached a small village, and Draco ran into a small shop. Hermione stepped in after him, and gasped at what she saw. Lord Voldemort was standing inside the shop, which sold what appeared to be dark artifacts. _

_"Avada Kedavra!" _

_Draco was hit in the chest with the beam of vibrant green light, dead instantly. Hermione let out a loud, high-pitched scream._

Hermione jumped awake again, her body covered in moist sweat. She was trembling slightly, and sat up slowly to look at her clock. She glanced at it and jumped up from her bed quickly, it was one o'clock? She pulled on a pair of jeans and a read sweater, glad it was Saturday and she didn't have to wear her Hogwarts uniform. She walked swiftly down to the Great Hall, where she assumed she would find Harry and Ron, probably pigging out on lunch.

She spotted them rather quickly and walked over, seating herself on Ron's other side.

"Morning!" she said brightly.

"Er, it's afternoon now 'Mione," said Ron.

"Oh, yes, I suppose it is," she said, laughing. "I fell asleep again, and only woke up a little while ago and came straight down here."

"Oh, well I guess you haven't eaten then. Want some lunch?" Harry asked, pushing a bowl of treacle pudding towards her.

"Er, no, I actually ate before I came down here," she replied quickly.

"Hermione, you said you came straight down here," Ron said slowly.

_"Shit!" _Hermione thought to herself. "Erm, I grabbed a banana on my way out the door."

"Well that's not a real lunch!" Harry said. "Here, have some pudding, you've been looking rather pale and skinny lately."

Hermione tried not to smile at this, knowing that it was not meant to be a compliment. "No, I have not! And what does it matter to you? It doesn't concern you! Or Ron! Both of you need to just stay out of my health life!"

Ron and Harry exchanged confused and shocked looks at this.

"Sorry 'Mione, we're just worried about you is all," Ron said quietly.

"Well you don't need to be! I've been taking care of myself for pretty much the last four years, I don't need someone to come and tell me what to do now! I am perfectly able to make my own decisions!"she shouted loudly.

"Okay Hermione, we're sorry," said Harry.

"Fine. I forgive you. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go to the library and try to get some studying done."

"Alright, see you later,"

Hermione heaved a sigh and walked off in the direction of the library, feeling extremely dizzy from the shouting match she had just engaged in. She paused for a moment and leaned against a stone pillar for support while her head stopped spinning. She thought things couldn't get any worse, when she heard an obnoxious voice cut through the silence like a knife through a wooden block.

"Granger!" yelled Draco Malfoy loudly.

"What Malfoy?" she asked tiredly, rubbing her temples.

"I'm just reminding you that it's your turn to be patrolling, and I'm not picking up the slack for you tonight."

"Great!" she shouted.

He looked at her awkwardly,"What's wrong?"

Hermione glared at him "Nothing that's any of your concern."

"Fine."

The blonde boy turned around and walked away, leaving Hermione alone in the empty corridor. She rolled her eyes and began walking again. _"What is he playing at?" _she wondered_. "He doesn't care whats wrong with anyone, let alone me. He must be ill."_

By now she had reached the library, only to decide that she was not in the mood for studying at all. She turned around and walked back towards her dormitory. She told the portrait of the smiling witch the password and walked inside. To her surprise Malfoy was sitting on the couch reading, except this was no wizarding book, it was a muggle book that she couldn't catch the title of. She walked over and sat in the cushy armchair across from him.

"Well, this certainly is a first," she joked. "Draco Malfoy reading a muggle book! Who would have thought I'd see the day."

Draco looked up in surprise; apparently he hadn't heard her come in. He quickly shut the book and put it beside him. "So what? I'm allowed to read whatever I want, aren't I?"

"Yes," she giggled, "but what is this mystery book that has caught the Slytherin Princes' attention?"

Hermione stood up and walked swiftly over to the other couch, reaching for the book, only to have Malfoy pull it away quickly and put it face-down in his lap.

"It's nothing."

"Well if you're keeping it a secret it certainly is something," Hermione said stubbornly.

"It's none of your business Granger."

"Maybe not, but I'm curious all the same."

Hermione looked away, pretending to be distracted by the roaring fireplace, and then moved quickly and snatched up the thick book. Smiling to herself, she clutched her prize and walked back over to her armchair, still not looking at the cover.

"So let's see here," she said, turning it over. She glanced down at the title, still smiling, glanced back up, and then back down, to be sure she read it correctly.

"Malfoy," she said slowly,"why are you reading this?"

"Er, I want to get healthier..." he trailed off awkwardly.

"Malfoy.." she said warningly.

"Alright, fine. I want to know what's going on with you Granger."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said too calmly.

"You don't eat!" he exploded.

"Yes I do!"

"No, Hermione, you don't. You don't eat in this kitchen, and you don't eat in the Great Hall. The most I've seen you eat this week was a banana when I forced it on you yesterday morning!"

"What, have you been watching me? _Spying _on me? I eat fine thanks, and even if I didn't it's none of your business!"

"You do not eat 'fine'! Don't you see? You're slowly killing yourself! You're all skin and bones! I don't think it is possible to get any skinnier."

"Stop lying to me! I'm fat and you know it! Just stop! You just want me to keep putting on more and more weight so you can continue to make fun of me!" Hermione screamed.

"Hermione..."

"No, don't! You _live _to make fun of me, and torment me Malfoy, don't pretend that you don't. The last thing I need right now is you continuing to do just that! Don't you ever get sick of it? Don't you ever realize that what you say may just _hurt _someone? Don't you? Well I suppose it doesn't matter. It's just one big game to you. Well guess what, I'm done playing! Don't look at me, don't talk to me, don't even think about me! From now on you are dead to me, and you would do well to think of me the same way!" she paused, completely out of breath, her head spinning. "Oh yeah, and here's your precious book!," she spat, throwing the copy of Anorexia and Bulimia-Help for the Helpless at his head.

She spun around and walked quickly towards the staircase, head still spinning. Draco stood up to go after her and had almost reached her when she stopped on the fifth step, her hand on her forehead. She began to fall and the last thing she remembered before blacking out was Draco Malfoy, catching her before she hit the ground. _Of course_.

**A/N-Yes, yes I know! Very short. But I only have a miniscule seven reviews on my whole story! Maybe if there were more I would be compelled to write longer chapters hint hint. Haha yes, well, the quicker you review the quicker I write (and the longer the chapters are) soo come on guys! I have over 700 reads...but seven reviews! Mmkay, enough of this pointless complaining. Byeee.**


	5. What Is and What Never Should Be

**A/N-Okkaay, here it is, the next chapter. I'm trying to speed up my updates, believe me I am, but school does tend to slow me down. But I do figure I am quicker than some authors. One of my favorite stories, which happens to be on this site, is amazing, but the updates are months apart! I highly recommend it to everyone, it's called Life Happens, by ColorOfAngels. There are already 33 chapters, so even if it takes her awhile you have a lot to read. Another one of her stories Just Married, Kinda is also one of my favorites. Okay well enough of my advertising! **

**I'm going to try to speed things up a little here, whether it happens or not, we'll see. I would also like to thank the amazing souls who reviewed! Thank you thank you thank you. Usually I wait until the weekend to write the next chapter, but I am beginning this one in the middle of the week thanks to you guys. So you see, reviews really do speed up the process. **

Chapter Four

Hermione groaned softly as she stirred in the all-too-comfortable bed she was laying in. _"Wait a moment...bed?"_ she wondered. _"Why am I in bed? What happened?"_ She struggled for a second to open her eyes, for her eyelids suddenly felt ten times heavier than they ever had before. Finally she managed to open them for a split second, but then was forced to close them due to the harsh light that hit her so suddenly. Trying again she succeeded and glanced around; taking in her surroundings.

_"Hospital wing?"_ she thought quickly. _"Why on earth am I in the hospital wing?" _Something, or rather someone, stirred somewhere to her right and with a quick look she caught the flaming red hair of Ron Weasley. He was sleeping, although not soundly, and Hermione expected he would awaken any moment.

She threw her head back against the soft pillow, thoroughly exhausted, and her head feeling as though it may explode at any given moment due to the thundering pounding against her skull. Ron, it appeared, had finally decided to wake up and quickly got up from his chair when he noticed Hermione was awake.

"Merlin, Hermione, thank god."

"What happened Ron?" she whispered, trying for the life of her to remember, but not even coming close.

"You don't remember? You passed out in your Common Room. Madam Pomfrey says you're malnourished," he replied slowly. "Harry and Ginny have only just left, they went down to the Great Hall to get some lunch."

Suddenly it all came flowing back to her, like a quick-moving river of thoughts. Her argument with Malfoy, the book he was reading, passing out and him catching her. "Wow, it's been a whole day?"

"Yeah, Pomfrey said you were ought to be tired."

"Yes, I am," she said, yawning.

"Well you should get back to sleep then, I can't have anything else happen to you, can I?"

She chuckled weakly and whispered a soft "Goodnight Ronald" before closing her eyes, vaguely registering his lips pressed to her forehead before she dropped off to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Hermione woke up again, she found the Hospital Wing eerily quite, and didn't like it one bit. She sat up in bed and wondered briefly where Madame Pomfrey was, just before the plump woman came bustling in.

"Hello Dearie," she said.

"Hi Madame Pomfrey. I was wondering, may I leave anytime soon? I have an awful lot of homework that I've yet to finish."

"Yes, of course, just eat that tray there, next to your bed and you can go," Madame Pomfrey said, making up the bed next to Hermione. "You gave your friends quite a scare. Did you skip breakfast yesterday?"

"Oh, yes, I just wanted to get some reading done."

"Well, you need to begin to take better care of your body. You are a bit underweight," the woman said, glancing down at a piece of paper in her hand. "Only 110 pounds, and for a girl your height you could due with putting on a bit of weight."

"Yes, I'll try to do that," Hermione lied.

"Good, good, now you eat that plate and you may go," she stated, walking out of the room and into her office.

Hermione glanced down at the repulsive food. She took five bites of the apple before casting it aside, and not even bothering to touch any of the other fatty substances. She wondered momentarily how she would dispose of this, knowing Madame Pomfrey would probably notice a tray of food in the garbage. She glanced around and saw her wand on the bed-side table. With a quick vanishing spell the food was gone, and Hermione was standing.

She looked up at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was five thirty. She guessed that everyone would be at dinner, and that was where she should head. She walked through the castle, finally reaching the Great Hall and walked through the giant doors and sat herself down next to Ron at the Gryffindor table.

"'Mione!" he exclaimed. "Madame Pomfrey let you out already?"

"Of course Ron. The only reason I was in there in the first place was because I skipped breakfast. I'm perfectly fine."

"Hermione, I've been watching you-"

"Ronald, don't start here. I'm far from in the mood to deal with your petty concerns. I am in perfect health, I just got a little light-headed from screaming at Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Harry looked up. "He's what put you in the Hospital Wing? I should have known. Wait until I get my hands on him..."

"Harry, it wasn't really his fault. He's Malfoy; he just can't help himself sometimes. I'm feeling much better now, so there's no reason to go anywhere near him. I'd like it if we pretended he didn't exist actually."

"Sure thing Hermione, but what did he say to get you so angry?" Harry questioned.

"Oh, nothing really, the normal Mudblood stuff. I may have over-reacted a tad."

Harry nodded and continued on with his dinner, though still looking murderous. She caught him mumbling under his breathe throughout the meal, things like "arrogant ferret" and "teach him to leave her alone" but chose to ignore it.

"Hey, aren't you hungry?" Ron asked staring at her.

"Oh, no. Madame Pomfrey gave me dinner in the Hospital Wing."

"Oh.."

Feeling grateful for the meals end, Hermione shuffled back to her dormitory, just wanting to go to bed and forget this day ever happened. She crawled through the portrait hole, and walked into the Common Room, sinking down into the soft armchair. She felt herself begin to doze off and before she knew it she was fast asleep.

The next morning Hermione was awakened by the steady flow of sunlight that poured through her window. She noticed that she was in her bed, but was almost certain she had passed out on the armchair in the Common Room the previous night.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, she looked at her clock and saw that it was eight o'clock. Jumping out of bed Hermione ran into the bathroom and took the quickest shower of her life. She had only a half hour to get to Herbology, which was her first class of the morning, with the Hufflepuffs. She pulled open her closet and ripped out her Hogwarts Uniform, pulling it on as quickly as she could. Next was her hair. She glanced and the mirror and moaned at what she saw. Her hair had dried naturally, making it bushy and curly as ever. She knew that it would take much more than the five minutes she had left to do it, so throwing it in a thick ponytail she ran downstairs.

She walked quickly through the halls, through the Entrance Hall doors, out into the crisp November day. She scurried to the greenhouses, and when she finally was inside the proper one-greenhouse three- she noticed she was the last one there.

"Sorry Professor Sprout," she whispered, quite embarrassed.

"No problem, just do try to be on time Miss Granger."

Hermione sped over to a table that seated Harry, Ron, and Ernie. They glanced up at her and Harry and Ron threw her questioning looks, but Hermione just shook her head as if to say "not now", turning her attention to the Professor.

The rest of the day passed slowly for Hermione, although she was not quite as tired as she normaly was due to the amount of sleep she got the previous day, and could now concentrate on her lessons, which she was glad for. After dinner, which Hermione didn't eat-mumbling something about eating in her kitchen-she decided she would spend some time in the Gryffindor Common Room to be with her friends, as her own Common Room was quite boring; she hadn't even seen Malfoy since her return from the Hospital Wing.

The night went by quickly, with Harry, Ron, and Ginny playing a game of Exploding Snap, laughter was heard from their corner of the room quite frequently. After about three hours it was getting very late and Harry and Ginny said goodnight, going upstairs to get some much needed sleep, leaving Ron and Hermione all alone.

"Hermione," Ron started awkwardly,"I've been wanting to talk to you."

"About what?"

"About how you eat 'Mione! I know somethings going on with you, and I want to know what it is."

"Ron, _nothing_ is going on with me. I wish everyone would stop bugging me, I eat fine!"

"No, Hermione, you don't. Malfoy talked to me. After he carried you up to the Hospital Wing. He was still there when I got there and he said that you don't eat in your kitchen, and I know you don't eat in the Great Hall, so unless you are eating in privacy, which would be weird, then you don't eat at all."

"_Malfoy_ talked to you? And since when do you listen to him? He's a git Ron, he likes to make stuff up, you know that just as well as I do! I eat in front of him all the time! He is just trying to start something! You know that! I know you know that deep down. You know how he is!"

"Yes, maybe so Hermione," Ron said still looking unconvinced,"but then why are you losing all this weight? It's unhealthy."

"I'm on a diet Ron. I may not eat quite as much as I used to but I do eat. I'm getting healthier! I feel great! Better than I have in months!"

"Okay, just please don't take this thing too far, alright? I'm worried about you, we all are. You're our Hermione and we, _I_ couldn't stand it if something were to happen to you," he said moving in rather close to her.

"You don't need to be worried about me, but thank you for doing it anyway."

Before either of the two knew it they were kissing pationately, letting loose the feelings that they had both been repressing for years. Finally they broke appart, each staring into the other's eyes, wondering where this left them.

"I should get back to my dormitory," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah, I should get to bed too...History of Magic first tomorrow, wouldn't want to be tired for that," Ron said, his face turning red with embarrassment.

Hermione quickly nodded and jumped out of her seat on the couch next to Ron, and practically ran back to her own Common Room, throwing herself onto her favorite armchair.

"We kissed! Why on earth did I let him kiss me? Or did I kiss him? Oh what does it matter, now our friendship will be ruined!" she wailed. "Or this could turn into a relationship...but am I ready to be in a relationship with _Ron_? Yes, I suppose I am, but is he?"

Hermione didn't realize that she was speaking out loud, and not quietly at all, until a familiar blonde head was standing to her left, staring intently at her.

**A/N- Ehh slight cliffie, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! Also I know this was another rather short chapter, but I do promise the next one won't be, not at all. I have a huge paper I have to write for English and I will try to balance that with this story, but the one way to make this my first priority is to review!**


	6. First Day On a Brand New Planet

**A/N- Okay, I have _finally_ finished that english paper, it was a nightmare. But now there should be nothing stopping me from updating more frequently, as the term just ended.**

-Chapter Six-

"M-Malfoy," she studdered.

"Scare you, Granger?"

"No!"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Well, fine, yes. I just wasn't expecting you to be down here so late."

"Yes, it is rather late," Malfoy said casually. "What were you doing out after hours? I mean, besides snogging Weasley that is."

He looked so calm, but stated this as if it were some kind of challenge that he was expecting Hermione to compete in.

"It is no business of yours who I do, or do not snog. I don't believe I asked _your_ opinion on the matter."

"Ouch, Granger. Don't you think you should be nicer to the person who kept you from cracking your head open on that banister?" he asked, indicating with his hand the banister he was speaking of. "The person who has found you passed out in this Common Room and had to carry you up those stairs and tuck you into bed at night, because you were too exhausted to carry yourself all the way up there? What about the person who has been watching you, actually _worrying_ about you, and when they try to confront you, you practically bite their head off? Don't you think you should be a bit kinder to that person? Maybe if you didn't keep pushing everyone away, your "friends" would be able to help you. If that's what you're calling them. Friends? Great friends they are. That git Weasley doesn't even pull his nose out of his ass until you've fainted, and even then I had to convince him something was up."

Hermione could feel her eyes filling up with tears."_No_," she thought viscously, "_I will not let this horrible scum make me cry, I **won't**_." She glanced up at the ceiling, trying to blink the tears from her eyes, and stop them from falling. Finally, when she thought she had herself composed she glanced back at the blonde haired boy.

"Malfoy, I _never_ asked you to worry about me. I don't want your pity, or worry as you're calling it. And I never asked you to catch me, or to bring me upstairs, those things you did all on your own. I honestly haven't known what you've been playing at this year! Acting like you care about people other than yourself? Worrying about people. It's an act, I know it is, and I am not about to get swooped up in the great Draco Malfoy's charm. You know why I won't? Because it doesn't exist! You _use_ people Malfoy, that's all. You use them for your own purposes, and then dispose of them. I don't know what you want, or expect from me, but I can tell you right now you are going to be severely disappointed. I don't buy into this nonsense for one moment, so you can stop right now," she took a deep breathe.

"And my friends," she continued, only pausing momentarily, "are great friends. Not that you would know, considering you don't have any. For your information, they haven't noticed anything because there isn't anything to notice. As I have explained to Ron, you have been stretching the truth. Even if you do not always see me, I do eat up here. God forbid Malfoy doesn't know every last thing that goes on within one hundred feet of his presence. Just because I am on a diet to drop a bit of weight, doesn't mean that I am not eating, or becoming unhealthy! So I would appreciate it if you would drop the subject!"

With that, the brunette turned on her heal, and stomped up the stairs, leaving a fuming Malfoy behind her, all the while telling herself what she was doing was normal, and there was nothing wrong with her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been almost a week since the fight with Malfoy, that made Hermione more angry than she had been in quiet some time. She was dating Ron Weasley, which didn't really come as a surprise to many. Things had been rather quiet, mostly snowy, a sure sign that Christmas was fast approaching. The couple spent most of their free time that they weren't busily pouring over books in the library -Hermione's doing- or playing a game of Wizard's Chess -Ron's doing- sitting snuggled on the small couch in the Gryffindor Common Room in front of the warm fire.

Christmas break was coming quick, and Hermione's parents had already written her, asking her to come home for Christmas, as they were missing her. Though this disappointed Ron, who was hoping she would accompany him to The Burrow. She had pretended that she would much rather be there with him than going to her "stuffy old muggle home", when really she felt as though she could use a short break from Ron, even if it were only for five days. Lately, it seemed as though all they ever did was argue, and even though that wasn't much different from when they were only friends, she was expecting something...different. She wasn't sure what exactly. The only differences that she could see was that they held hands when walking in the halls and made out when alone.

Malfoy did not exactly welcome the New Couple. He shot them death glares in the halls, and made snide comments whenever he was within ten feet of them.

One particular day, Ron and Hermione were walking down the corridor, holding hands, on their way to History of Magic, when she spotted an all too familiar blonde head. She saw the boy glance at her, then Ron, and then their connected hands, and continued to walk straight towards them, not moving to the side at all to avoid collision. He kept on walking until he had reached them, and then went on to walk straight through their joined hands, breaking them apart.

"Whoops, sorry Mudblood, Weasel git," he said with a laugh, "I didn't notice you there."

Hermione never saw him in the Common Room or kitchen anymore, almost as though he were avoiding her completely. If she did happen to run across him, he would divert his eyes, completely ignoring her. This pained her, because she couldn't help but remember that he had "worried" about her. Hermione wasn't completely sure whether this was the truth or not, given his past history.

_"I wish he would just change,"_ she thought to herself, laying in bed one night. _"If he would just act like a normal human being he would be a worthwhile friend. I wish I could change him, but I do not want to be in the business of changing someone. Not everyone wants to change. A shame, he is quite easy on the eyes, even if he is a foul git."_

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The week before Christmas break went on in a flurry of classes, quidditch matches, and strained nights with Ron. He wanted to go much farther than she was ready for, and Hermione was getting quite annoyed, and thanked Merlin for the Saturday that meant finally getting a bit of space to breathe.

Since she was Head Girl, Hermione was allowed to floo from her Common Room fireplace back to her home. Thankful for the escape from the long ride on the Hogwarts Express with a bunch of teenagers, excited to get away from school, she picked up a handful of the ashy powder, threw it into the fireplace, and shouted "Number 5 Wingwood Street", before vanishing, and then falling out of the fireplace of the home she grew up in.

She shuffled farther into the living room, brushing soot and ashes off her robes as she walked, and called out, "Mum? Dad?"

"In here darling," her mother's voice called out.

Hermione walked quickly into the kitchen, and ran into her father's open arms.

"Oh we missed you darling," he said into her hair.

Hermione then stepped over to her mother, and was wrapped up into another embrace.

"Yes, I think we are going to have to take you out of that school, we miss you too much!" her mother joked.

Hermione stepped away, grinning at them. Her parents looked her over, as if seeing her for the first time, the heavy clothing she was wearing not even able to hide her new appearance. They took in her hollow cheeks and tiny frame that seemed to have shrunk over the past four months, exchanging shocked looks.

"Dear, why don't you go upstairs and unpack and then we will go get some supper," her mother suggested.

Hermione nodded, and padded halfway up the stairs, knowing that her parents were going to be talking about how much weight she had gained the second she had left the room. She was too far up to hear much, but could hear snatches of their conversation.

"Look at her- those heavy clothes don't hide anything," she heard her father say.

"-Overreacting, Paul. She's not that unhealthy."

"-Taking her to the doctor tomorrow! I will not have my daughter looking like that"

Hermione shook her head, tears already falling down her cheeks, and ran upstairs to her room. The pinkness of it just succeeded in making her cry harder. Her parents were ashamed of her. They hated her because she was fat. Too fat to be their daughter. Her mother was always a petite woman, never weighing a pound over what she wanted.

She stood up and walked over to the scale that she had left when she went back to Hogwarts, knowing that there were scales already there. She stepped gingerly on it, closing her eyes in anticipation of the number that was about to be revealed.

100.5 pounds. She glared at the number, wishing it were lower. It may not sound high, but she did not _look_ 100 pounds, and she definitely didn't _feel_ 100 pounds.

_"Just five more pounds,"_ she told herself, _"just five more pounds and I will be the perfect weight." _

She stepped carefully off the pitiless object, and back onto her soft carpet. She pulled off her Hogwarts uniform, and instead put on a pair of jeans and a heavy blue sweater. After pulling on a pair of boots, and tucking her jeans into them, she grabbed her favorite black scarf and walked back downstairs. Hermione grabbed her winter coat from the closet and after putting it on, walked into the kitchen.

"I'm going for a walk," she informed her parents, who were still sitting at the table, presumably still talking about her.

They glanced at each other, and then her mother spoke. "Hermione, dear, I thought we were going to have dinner together."

"Suddenly I'm not very hungry," she replied coldly, and turned around, walking out of the room and out the front door, shivering slightly at the bitter cold that met her.

She pulled her jacket more tightly around her and stepped off the porch, onto her walkway, heading in whatever way her feet led her. Eventually Hermione found herself at her favorite childhood park, and sat gently down on a red swing, pushing off with the slight thrust of her foot. She sat that way for what seemed like hours, but she assumed it had only been a few minutes. She watched the sun begin to set, as it was about five thirty, and in the middle of winter, getting dark.

Hermione loved it here. Even when she was just a kid, her mother would bring her whenever they had the time. Her favorite part had always been the swings. Feeling the wind crash against her hair, whipping it in her face, was the greatest feeling in the world to the five-year-old Hermione Granger.

"Hermione?"

Hermione whipped her head around, looking for the source of the voice that disturbed her thoughts. Upon locating it, she wished she had never left her warm house.

"Robbie."

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**A/N- Yes, I know I promised this chapter would be much longer than the last, but if I began the next chapter in this same chapter, this one would be too long and I figured this would be a good place to end it. I feel like Draco may be a little OOC in the beginning, but I'm not sure. Your feedback is always greatly appriciated. In other words, please review!**


	7. What Could Have Been

**A/N- Sorry it took soo long for the update. For some reason it wasn't letting me upload the document. **

**Here's a fair warning; I've written and re-written this chapter many times and I'm still not sure if it went in the direction I wanted it to. This one is probably not one of my better ones, but please review and let me know what you think. And now, on with the story!**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing, except for Robbie. All else is J.K. Rowlings. Life sucks like that, huh?**

-Chapter Seven-

Hermione gaped at the dark haired boy for a moment, before regaining her composure.

"Hey," she said casually.

"Hey, yourself," he replied, walking over and sitting on the swing next to her.

"How have you been?" Hermione asked, staring him straight in the eye.

"Oh, you know. I'm glad we have a break from school," he said awkwardly.

She nodded and the two sat in awkward silence for a moment, before Robbie finally decided to break it.

"I've missed you," he said quietly.

Hermione paused, "I've missed you too," she said finally.

"It's been a hard few months, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I just kept regretting ever breaking off what we had, you know? Even if it wasn't that much, I feel like it could have turned into something great."

"Yes, well," Hermione began, "I am pretty far away. It's not like I could see you every day, or even call you every day. Our only form of communication would have been through letters, and you know that would never be enough."

"Yeah, I just wish we had given it a shot."

"Yes, it may have been worth it," she said, although her mind was clouded with doubt.

"Yeah. I was actually hoping I would run into you sometime this week, without having to actually go to your house and ask for you. But it is my pleasure to tell you I was planning on doing just that if that's what it took."

Hermione laughed, "Oh, well at least you wouldn't wait outside my house for me to leave, that would be creepy."

"I'm no stalker!" he exclaimed.

"Sure you're not," she glanced at her watch. "Well, it's getting late. I should probably get home before my parents start to worry," she said getting up from her swing.

"Let me walk you?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks."

The teens walked in silence for a few minutes, and Hermione was sure that she could feel Robbie's eyes upon her numerous times._ "Probably just thinking about how fat I am," _she thought to herself, suddenly growing more self-conscious and wrapping her coat around her body tighter when suddenly Robbie broke the silence, bringing up the one topic that Hermione would have done absolutely anything to avoid.

"Hermione? Are you okay? I can't help but notice you look a little skinny."

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. Great actually. I've just been on a little diet; you know, making sure this huge stomach of mine doesn't grow anymore," she said with a fake laugh.

"Oh," he said. And then a moment later, "you don't need to be, you know."

"What's that," Hermione asked, thoroughly confused.

"On a diet I mean. You don't need to be on one. You're tiny."

Hermione chuckled, "I'd forgotten how funny you can be."

"This isn't a joke, Hermione. I'm serious. This seems dangerous."

"It isn't. Now can we please drop it?" she asked, beginning to walk at a faster pace, hoping to reach her house before he pushed it further.

"Yeah, yeah sure," he said quickly, obviously realizing that he had gone too far. "So what are your plans?"

"My plans?"

"For the next few days, before you have to go back to school," he said. "Think you'd feel up to spending some good old quality time with an old boyfriend?"

"I may be able to work you in," she said slyly. "But it'll cost you."

"Oh, well I am a poor man," he said sarcastically. "Could I pay you in kisses?"

"Oh now, I don't know if Ron would appreciate that," she said with a wink.

"Ron? Who's Ron?" Suddenly Robbie was serious.

"My boyfriend. We go to school together."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yes, boyfriend. What, did you expect me to be hung up over you forever?"

"Of course I did. No one gets over Robbie," he said, joking again, although Hermione could tell that he was hurt.

"I guess I must be magical then," she giggled. "What? The great Robbie hasn't moved on yet?"

"Nope, flyin' solo. Random hook-up here, a night of passionate sex there, no serious commitment."

She swatted at his arm, and he jumped away. They had now reached Hermione's house and were standing outside the gate that led to her walkway.

"Well, I guess I'd better go," she said.

"Yep. So how about dinner tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow's Christmas!"

"Oh yeah. Damn holidays have to ruin everything," he said with a light laugh. "The day after then?"

"Sure. At six?"

"I'll be here. You better look good too, I can't be seen walking around with an ugly girl, it would ruin my rep, you know," he joked.

"Oh don't worry, you won't be able to keep your eyes off of me," she said, turning around and walking through the gate and into her yard.

"I'd be more worried about my hands," he said slyly.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Goodnight Robbie."

"'Night Hermione."

She let out a happy sigh and walked up the stairs and opened the front door, glad that the meeting wasn't as bad as she expected it to be. She expected awkward silences, and Robbie trying to avoid talking about their relationship. Instead it had been just the opposite, after getting past talking about their past history, their playful banter and openness was great to have back.

Hermione stepped into her house, the warmth instantly engulfing her, and making her sigh contently. She looked at her watch, which read six fifteen and figured that her parents would probably be eating dinner. Heading into the kitchen for the third time that night she saw them eating silently.

"I'm home," she told them.

"Great, would you like some dinner?" her dad asked. "We're having spaghetti."

Hermione cringed at the thought of all of the fat and carbs that were in that meal. "No thanks, I actually ran into Robbie, remember him? We both hadn't eaten and we went to that diner down the street from the park."

"Oh, alright honey," her mother said, although her father looked doubtful.

"I think I'm just going to go upstairs and go to bed, I'm awfully tired," Hermione said, yawning

"Okay," her mom replied, getting up and kissing her on the forehead. "Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight mom. Goodnight dad," she said, and turned around, walking back up the carpeted stairs and into her bright room.

Upon entering, she flopped down on her bed and picked up the book that lay on her bedside table, To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. She had heard nothing but good things about this book, and couldn't wait to begin it.

She read for three and a half hours, finishing the book, and put it back with a smile. It then hit her how tired she really was, and she flipped off her lights, before pulling her blanket up to her chin, and drifting off into a deep, dreamless, sleep.

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The next morning Hermione jumped awake with a start. She glanced over at her bedside table, where her pink clock lay, reading nine thirty. She briefly wondered what she would do that day, before realizing that it was Christmas. Surprised her parents let her sleep so late, Hermione rose out of her bed and walked over to her closet, opening the door and pulling her red bathrobe off the hanger on the other side.

Pulling it on as she walked, she headed down the hall, and then down the stairs, looking for her parents. She heard the television on in the living room, and headed in that direction. She saw her mother and father laying cuddled on the couch, some Christmas special on the T.V.

"Happy Christmas," she said.

"Oh, Hermione dear, you're finally awake. Your father and I thought you were going to sleep the day away. Happy Christmas."

"Why didn't you wake me? I didn't mean to sleep so late," she said apologetically.

"We figured you needed it," her father replied, standing up and kissing her on the forehead. "Would you like to open your presents now?"

"Of course she would Paul, don't waste time with silly questions," her mother laughed. She stood up and walked over to the Christmas tree that was in the corner of the room, right next to the fireplace, and picked up a package wrapped in green wrapping paper, and handed it to her daughter.

Hermione gladly accepted the present, and tore off the wrapping paper quickly, uncovering a book titled Useful Spells and When to Use Them.

"Thanks, Mum, Dad," she said happily, as this was a book she had seen in Diagon Ally and didn't buy at the time, but regretted it later.

Hermione continued to open all of her presents, which consisted of ten more books, a small owl, -which she unwisely allowed her mother to name, her mother deeming the poor creature Tupper, or Tup for short- and a beautiful jewelry box from her parents. Harry sent her a homework planner, which was similar to the one she had given both him and Ron the previous year. Ron had sent a gorgeous silver charm bracelet, which she had to assume Harry had lent him the money for.

Thanking her parents once again, she piled all of her new things into her arms, and struggled to carry them up the staircase, which seemed longer at the time. She dumped all of the stuff onto her bed, intending to neatenit all up after she had written Harry and Ron.

Harry's letter was easy, in her opinion, just a quick "thank you" and "how's your break?" and she was done. Ron's, however, proved to be more difficult. After mulling over the best way to do it she finished the letter-after re-writting it several times.

_Dear Ron,_

_Thank you so much for the bracelet, it was beautiful. I hope you liked the Quidditch book I got you, I figured it suited you. I hope your break is going well. Although, you are probably having much more fun than me, what with your family and Harry there. I was hoping you might want to meet me in Diagon Ally tomorrow, maybe around two, at the Three Broomsticks? _

_I miss you, _

_Love, Hermione._

_P.S. Do you like my new owl? You'll never believe the atrocious name my mother picked out..._

She sighed, addressed the letter to Ron, and walked over to Tup's cage. The small owl hopped out and flew around the room for a moment, before landing on Hermione's desk, ready to carry his first letter. She tied the letter to it's leg, and opened the window, watching the owl fly off into the cold air, until he was just a spec in the distance.

She rose from her desk, and walked over to her bed. Sitting down, she yawned loudly, and let herself lay down, pulling her blanket up on top of her. She began to think about her relationship with Ron. She wasn't entirely happy with it, as they acted pretty much the same as they did before they began going out. She thought she may be happier if her and Ron were friends,rather than be in a sufficating relationship that they currently found themselves in. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.

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Hermione woke up suddenly, due to someone gently shaking her shoulder. She rolled over and looked up into the eyes of her mother.

"Mum?" she asked. "Oh gods, what time is it?"

"It's four thirty dear," her mother replied. "You've been out for quite a while, and dinner is ready."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep. I was just so tired," Hermione said, slowly sitting up. "I'll be down to dinner in a minute."

"Alright," her mother said, standing and exiting her room.

Hermione glanced around her room, her eyes finally settling on the letter that lay on her desk. Taking a quick look at Tup's cage, she saw that the handsome owl was back already. _"Well, I did send it six hours ago, and The Burrow isn't **that **far from here," _she thought to herself.

She stood and walked over to her desk, placing herself gently in the wooden chair, and ripping the letter open.

_Hermione,_

_Thanks for the Quidditch book, it was perfect. I'm glad you liked your bracelet, and I will meet you in the Three Broomsticks tomorrow at three o'clock. I have missed you too, see you then._

_Ron. _

_Oh yeah, and your owl's great. Can't wait to find out it's name._

Hermione couldn't help but smile. Ron's letter was so purely Ron, short, sweet, and to the point. She couldn't help but notice he didn't mention his break, nor ask how hers was. She didn't dwell on this though, and walked downstairs and into the kitchen for the Christmas dinner that she could find no way to avoid.

Throughout the dinner, Hermione was so busy thinking about how sad she was that she had to break up with Ron the next day, she didn't notice how much she was eating. She had decided that it was just not working with the redhead, and could only pray that he would still want to remain her friend. These thoughts danced in her head, as she shoveled mouthful after mouthful of turkey, stuffing, corn, and cranberry sauce into her mouth. When she finally looked up, she saw her parents looking at her in awe.

"What?" she asked, sending them confused glances.

"Oh, nothing Hon, just glad to see you have your appetite back," her father said, turning his attention back to his plate.

Hermione was confused for a moment, and then with a glance down at her completely empty plate, could feel how full her stomach was. It was fuller than it had been in months, and she did not like it one bit.

_"What have I done?"_ she thought to herself miserably.

"Yes, I was kind of hungry. But now that I'm done, may I be excused?" she asked her parents.

"Of course dear," her mother said and her father nodded, seeming satisfied.

Hermione briskly walked from the room and ran up the stairs into her room. _"Oh gods, oh gods, what have I done? All of that work for nothing? No, I have to undo this, there has to be a way to undo this. I have to be perfect," _she thought desperately. Finally she made a decision, and turned around, walking out of her room, and down the hall to the bathroom. She gently closed the door behind her, and walked over to the shower, turning the knob so that it was running full blast. She then walked over to her muggle radio, that she often listened to while she showered, and turned that on as well, knowing her parents would just assume she was taking a shower.

She walked over to the toilet, and stood above it, making sure she really wanted to do this. _"This isn't bulimia," _she told herself, _"it's just damage control, there's a difference."_ With that she got on her knees, bowing to the porcelain bowl. She shoved a finger down her throat, as far as she could, making her gag, but not throw up. _"I can't even make myself puke. I'm such a screw up. I have to do this, I **have** to,"_ she thought. She then shoved two fingers down her throat, this time even further, and left them there as she gagged, thinking about all of the fat she had consumed only fifteen minutes ago, and finally achieved her goal.

She repeated this action until she was sure that she had completely emptied her stomach, and then stood. She grabbed her toothbrush, and furiously brushed her teeth, trying to get rid of both the scent and taste of her vomit. Pleased with herself for a job well done, she turned off the shower and radio, and walked out of the room. She kept on smiling as she walked into her room and climbed into her bed, where the smile instantly fell, replaced by tears as she cried herself to sleep.

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**A/N- Okay, so this was one of my longer chapters, the longest yet actually. I'm not sure I did a good job on this one, or captured Hermione's personality correctly, but I did try. I know you must get tired of hearing this, but please review! It makes my day. I have over 3000 hits, but only 33 reviews? It only takes a moment...**

**But, in other news, I have vacation this week and will probably update a couple times what with all the free time I'm bound to have. But first, I must start a 20 paragraph english asignment I have put off until the last minute, and a 4 page science paper that our teacher only told us about yesterday, both due Friday, so there will be no writing until at least Saturday. **

**Also, Hermione WILL recover from her eating disorder. Eventually. It takes time and a lot of help to get there.**


	8. Cryin' Won't Help You Now

**A/N- This is a short one, sorry.**

**Disclaimer-You know the drill. None of this is mine, blah blah blah.**

-Chapter Eight-

The next morning Hermione was awoken by, in her opinion, the entirely too bright sun shining directly through her window and washing over her bed. "_Twelve o'clock? Gods, what's happening to me? I never used to be able to sleep past seven,_" she thought miserably after glancing at her clock. She rose quickly out of bed, the previous nights events coming to mind. Pushing all thoughts of what she had done out of her head, she walked over to her closet to find something appropriate to wear. Today was the day she was to break up with Ron, and she was having doubts.

"_I may be over-reacting. We could work together, maybe I just need to give it time,"_ she pondered. "_Even if I did though, who is to say that I won't come to this same conclusion in a week, or a month. Then all that I would have done is prolong the inevitable. And I can't be going out with Ron and having thoughts about other guys." _A picture of Robbie popped into her head, and then, surprisingly, a flash of Draco Malfoy. She shuddered at the thought, and pushed the mental image out of her mind.

She reached into her closet and took out a plain pair of jeans and a blue sweatshirt. After getting dressed she quickly did her hair and make-up, finally looking at her completed self in her full-length mirror. She couldn't help but notice how fat the sweatshirt made her look, but figured that everything made her look that way and she might as well accept it as she tried to fix the problem.

Hermione walked into the hallway, and down the stairs, heading for the kitchen. She had to eat something; she didn't want to faint ever again. Grabbing a banana and peeling it back she saw a note left on the counter from her parents.

_Hermione,_

_Your father and I had to go to work. I have left you some money next to the microwave that should cover whatever you need during the day. We should be home later on tonight, around six. Have a lovely day dear, and remember to eat lunch!_

_Love,_

_Mom_

Sighing, Hermione walked over to the microwave and grabbed the bills that were next to it, pocketing them. She walked into the living room, wondering what she was going to do for the next hour to pass time, as it was now twelve-thirty and she was supposed to meet Ron at The Three Broomsticks at two. Throwing herself onto the soft couch, she picked up the remote control and turned on the television.

She brainlessly watched for a half hour, before remembering why she never watched television in the first place. It was a bloody waste of time, that's why! She got up and grabbed one of her Christmas books from her room, cuddling into an armchair and engulfing herself in the text.

Before she knew it, the clock next to her read one-thirty, and she was standing up, taking one last look in the mirror, and walking out the door. She walked down the street, to an area where she could be sure no one could see her, before she took out her wand and raised it in the air, summoning the Knight Bus.

The violently purple, triple-decker bus pulled to a stop in front of her, and a tall man, presumably in his twenties, stepped out and glanced at her.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this fine afternoon," he recited, sounding as if he had said this same thing many times before.

"Hello," Hermione said weakly. "How much will it be to get to London, the Leaky Cauldron exactly."

"Twelve Sickles," Stan informed her. "But for fifteen you can get a 'ot chocolate."

"Okay," she said, pulling into her pocket and extracting fifteen sickles and then following Stan up the stairs of the obscene bus.

"That's our driver, Ernie Prang. Ernie, this is-," he glanced over at her. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Hermione. Hermione Granger," Hermione said politely. "Nice to meet you Ernie." The elderly man nodded, before turning his attention back to the front, starting the bus up again.

Stan lead her over to one of the many beds, and said, "You 'ave this one," before walking back up to the front with Ernie. All of a sudden there was a loud bang and the bus was speeding off, unsettling Hermione slightly. She had only ridden this bus once before, and couldn't say that the vehicle had grown on her.

"We've just got to drop Mr.Myer off first, then we'll be headin' to London," Stan informed her. Hermione nodded in response, and let her mind wander for the rest of the trip. Before long, the bus had dropped off Mr.Myer and appeared in front of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione carefully picked her way through the aisles and made her way to the front of the bus.

"Thank you," she told Stan and Ernie, stepping off the last step.

They nodded in response and Hermione walked through the doors of the Leaky Cauldron, entering the small pub. She made her way to the brick wall and took out her wand, tapped the appropriate bricks, and stepped into Diagon Ally, smiling at the surprising feeling of the warm sun on her back, as it was the middle of a winter day. She walked down the street, feeling light and airy, or she _was_ feeling light and airy, until that is, she remembered why she was here in the first place. With a glance at her watch she saw that it was two o'clock on the dot, and if she didn't hurry she would be late; Hermione was _never_ late.

She reached the Three Broomsticks and stepped inside, instantly spotting Ron alone at a small table nursing a butterbeer, another already waiting for her across from him. She stood stock still for a moment, rethinking her decision, but told herself to stay firm.

He spotted her and waved her over wildly. Giggling at the erotic hand gesture she walked slowly over to the redhead, placing herself delicately in the chair across from him.

"Hey," he said, a goofy grin spreading across his face like wildfire.

"Hi," Hermione said softly, trying her best to put on a convincing smile. "How has your break been?"

"Oh, you know, it's been fine. Harry and Gin have been spending a lot of time by themselves, so its been pretty lonely."

"Oh, well that's too bad," Hermione said, a sympathetic look plastered on her face.

"Yeah, and I've missed you," he said shyly.

"Oh, well Ron, I think we need to talk," she said.

Ron's eyes widened slightly, "About what?"

"Er, well, I've been thinking and..." Hermione trailed off. This was not going to go the way she hoped it would.

"And?" he insisted.

"Uh, do you want to go for a walk? It's rather warm in here," she lied.

"Fine, sure, whatever," Ron said, rushing her out the door.

"So what is it that you've been thinking about?" he asked after they had picked their way through the crowded room and arrived outside.

"Well," Hermione started, she began walking, looking down at her feet. "I have been thinking, and I don't know if this is such a good idea."

"If _what_ is such a good idea, Hermione? Spit it out already!"

"You! Me! Us!" she shouted. "I don't think this is working Ron. I think we should just go back to being friends now, before either of us gets hurt."

"What, you mean end it?" he asked, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Why would we go back? I thought we were working just fine."

"Oh, Ron. Don't make this harder than it has to be," Hermione whispered.

"But why Hermione? I just want to know _why_," Ron's face was now a shade of red to rival his hair, and Hermione could feel his frustration mounting.

"Ron you are making a scene," she replied flatly, glancing around at the witches and wizards that were passing by, many of them staring at the couple oddly.

"I don't care Hermione! Do you hear me? I don't bloody care! I want you to tell me why! I want you to tell me what in the name of Merlin I did to deserve this!"

The brunette sighed, "Ronald, I will always care for you. I'm just not sure that I like you in the same way that I did when we started dating. I think that we should end things now and keep our friendship, which has always been the most important thing to me."

Ron shook his head in anger, "Hermione, I can't be just friends with you! Not after getting to see what being more was like. I can't go back, Hermione. I won't."

"Ron! Please don't say that! Our friendship is everything to me," she said desperately, her eyes filling with tears. She no longer cared if people were looking at them, she didn't even care if they were outright staring-which many were- the only thing she wanted right now was for Ron to say everything was alright and they could just go back to being friends.

"No, I'm afraid it just won't be the same. I don't want it to be either. I don't know what's wrong with you! Being like this, being mean and cold, this isn't you Hermione, and I am not liking what I'm seeing."

"Ron," she said viciously, "do you want to know the main reason I will not continue this relationship?"

Staring at her, he nodded his head vigorously. "Of course, lets hear it. What did I do that was so horrible?"

"You were always pressuring me Ron! I wasn't ready to sleep with you, but you wouldn't let it go. Always making me go a little further, until we almost did. And do you remember what you did when I said no Ron? Do you? You flipped out, you _yelled_ at me! I don't want to be with someone who is only in it for one reason and one reason only. I need more than that Ron."

Ron shook his head sadly, "I apologized for that Hermione. I apologized many times, I don't know what was wrong with me that night. I swore it would never happen again and I meant it."

"No, Ron, I'm not sure you did. And if I can't be sure of that then I can't be with you. I'm sorry that we can't remain friends, and I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I can't do this anymore," she said, the tears spilling over her cheeks.

"Fine. But just so you know, I was planning on telling you today; I love you," he said slowly, making Hermione sob harder, before turning around and walking away, down the cold street and out of sight.

Hermione stood there, in the middle of Diagon Ally, crying her eyes out, thoroughly disgusted with herself. She felt something wet fall onto her head and glanced up; the once sunny day was gone, it was raining.

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**A/N- Hermione was being a bit mean to Ron, I know, I know, and I'm sorry but it had to be done. I HATE Ron and Hermione together, and when it happens in the seventh book I might just rip my hair out. I find Ron to be incredibly annoying and just can't stand him. Sorry to all you Hermione/Ron shippers. They won't be getting back together I don't believe, and if they do, they won't last. Remember folks, this is a Hermione/Draco story, and it will get there eventually.**


	9. Crash Into You

**A/N- Yeah, this was a quick update. Don't get too used to it, I was in a writing mood. **

-Chapter Nine-

Wiping her eyes, Hermione continued down the street, heading into Knockturn Ally, which was the closest place, to escape the rain. Darting into a small bar, she glanced around the filthy room, and walked over to the bar, perching herself on one of the ugly stools. Looking around miserably, she saw the scrubby bartender walk over to her, seemingly summing her up.

"What 'cho want?" the dirty man asked her rudly.

"Uh, a firewhiskey please," she told him, averting her eyes. She _was_ of age, and a lot of people she knew had had it, so why couldn't she. The scrubby man nodded and grabbed a grimy glass, pouring the amber liquid into it and handing it to her roughly. Hermione dug in her pocket for the second time that day, and handed him over some gold.

"Cheers," she said aloud to herself, bringing the glass to her mouth. She downed as much of the nauseating drink as she could in one gulp, the substance burning her throat as it went down. She choked a bit, but recovered quickly.

Looking around the room, she thought she saw a familiar blonde head of hair, but thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her, Draco Malfoy would never be caught dead in such a disgraceful place. Staring at the head, she knew that only one person had hair like that, and her suspicions were confirmed when the head turned slightly, reveling the Slytherin Prince's profile.

Thankful for a familiar face, or head of hair, Hermione got up and walked over to the table that Malfoy was sitting at, pulling out the chair across from him and falling into it.

"Can I help you, Granger?" the blonde asked, looking slightly surprised at her presence.

"Er, not really, no," she said nervously. What was she doing there?

"Ok-ayy..." he shot her a strange look. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione took a sip of her firewhiskey, pondering. "I had to get out of the rain. It was pouring," she said simply.

"And you decided to sit with me because,,,"

"Because, you are the only one I know here, and if I have to be stuck in this greasy bar, it might as well be with someone who I'm pretty sure won't stun and rape me," she said angrily.

"_Pretty_ sure? You think I'd waste my time screwing you? I don't think so," Malfoy said with a smirk.

Hermione shook her head in disgust and downed the rest of her drink. She stood up and walked back over to the bar, ordered another, and walked back.

"Never pegged you for much of a drinker, Granger. Have a rough day?" he asked sarcastically.

"Actually, yes. Lets just say breaking up with Ron wasn't as easy as I thought it would be." She took another long sip of her drink.

"So you and the Weasel King finally decided to call it quits? Not that I care, but why?"

She took another long sip. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was sick of him pressuring me. It got real old, real fast."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "So Weasleys' a horndog. Interesting."

She glared at him, "He's not really. He just-. Okay, maybe, possibly, he is."

He chuckled, which Hermione was unaccustomed to, and blinked in surprise, it was a strange noise to hear from the ice prince. Eventually she smiled along with him, and realized this wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. But maybe that's the liquor talking. She had already had three, and was just about to go and get another when Draco put his hand out.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" he asked seriously.

"No," Hermione said, getting out of her chair and getting another. When she got back Draco had a strange look on his face. She assumed it was a new look to show his disgust with her, and let it slide, chugging down half the drink.

"Have you ever drank like this before?" he asked.

She smiled, "No, but I wish I had."

Shaking his head, he realized she was drunk and she had to get home. "Granger, maybe you should just go home."

"Or maybe," she said, "you should mind your own business and leave me be."

Sighing, he knew it was a lost cause, so he watched her drink two more glasses before he knew something had to be done, as she was unrecognizably drunk. He stood from his seat, and walked over to her, pulling her up and putting his arm around her waist.

"C'mon, Granger, lets get you home," he said.

"Okay, but can we dance when we get there? I want to dance!" she slurred.

"Sure, sure, but first we have to bring you home. Now, come on." He led her out the door and onto the cold, dark street. The rain had stopped, but Draco could see his breath as he walked down the street and into Diagon Ally.

"Granger, I have my apparation liscense, so I can get us there, but I need you to tell me where you live." 

"I live in a nice house. Well, my parents do. I live at Hogwarts. Oh, can we go to Hogwarts, Draco? Please?" she begged.

Ignoring her calling him by his first name, he said, "No, no, I think it's best we get you home to your parents. So what is your address, Granger?"

Sighing, she told him her address and he concentrated as hard as he could on getting them there. He felt the familiar tug of apparation and opened his eyes to reveal a respectable two-story house with a white fence.

"This it, Granger? Is this your parents house?" he asked in a whisper, hoping not to wake them as it was now twelve o'clock at night. He wondered where the hell the time went, because he could only vaguely remember walking into the bar at three.

She drunkly glanced up at it. "Hmm, it looks familiar. Yes! This is it!"

"Good, now go inside," he said, letting go of her. She took one shaky step and stumbled, Draco catching her arm at the last minute.

"Okay, I guess that's not going to work," he said, putting his arm around her waist again. He led her up to the steps, where again they faced trouble, as Hermione wasn't having an easy time getting her feet to cooperate. Draco sighed heavily, and picked her up in his strong arms, carrying her as if she weighed nothing, which, he noted, she felt like she did. He walked up the six stairs and onto the porch, glad that the front door was unlocked.

"Granger, which way is your room?" he asked, looking around. When he didn't hear an answer he stared down at her and saw that she was fast asleep. Getting a tad annoyed he walked up the stairs, assuming that her room was that way. When he arrived at the top, he saw a door open to a very pink room with a light on. He walked into the room and saw many pictures on the walls of Hermione and her parents, Hermione and Harry, Hermione and Ron, and some of the Golden Trio together.

Shaking his head in disgust at the boy-who-won't-die and the weasel king, he walked over to Hermione's bed and gently placed her down on it, pulling the covers up to her waist. She turned a bit in her sleep and he couldn't help but note how small she was. _Nobody's helping her_ he realized. He smiled sadly down at her as she continued to fidget, but knew he had to go before he was caught.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered into the air, before turning on his heel and strolling out of the pink room.

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Hermione awoke to a terrible pain in her head as though there were someone standing next to her with a hammer and was repeatedly bashing it into her skull. She moaned softly and rolled over, trying to figure out what had happened. Suddenly, she remembered breaking up with Ron, then going into that skeazy bar to escape the rain, and all the drinks, and Draco.

"Ugh, what have I done. I spent the night with none other than Draco freaking Malfoy. Just great, he probably thinks I'm a weirdo or something after what I must've said with all those drinks in me," she said to the empty room.

Pulling her limp body off the bed, Hermione walked over to her desk, holding her head. She was going to write Harry a letter asking how Ron was doing. His last words were still ringing in her ears "I love you." He loved her?! He _loved_ her? She had never heard such garbage in her life, now that she thought about it. If he loved her so much he would have waited for her, not pressured her! If he loved her, he would have at least wanted to still be friends with her. Wouldn't he? Shaking the thoughts out of her head she grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope your break is going well, mines been pretty lousy myself. I know Ron must have told you by know about our break-up. Is he doing alright? Please be brutally honest, I want to know where he stands before we return to school the day after tomorrow. I really am terribly sorry that things had to end the way they did though. Well, send my best to Ginny._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

She sighed and got Tup from his cage, tying the letter to its leg. The small owl hooted gently, and then took off out the window. Hermione went over to her closet and pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and a long-sleeved pink T-shirt for that day. Stripping off the clothes she had worn all day yesterday, as she didn't exactly change before bed the previous night, she put on the clothes and then walked across her room, heading for the stairs as the doorbell rang.

She knew she had not done her hair or make-up and probably looked extremely hung-over, but also knew that her parents were at work so she had to get it. She pulled open the white door, not even checking to see who it was.At seeing the face, Hermione smiled gently.

"Hey Robbie," she said, stepping outside onto the porch. "What's up?"

"Nothing really," Robbie said casually. "I was just wondering what happened last night. I came here at six to get you for dinner, but your parents said you weren't home."

Hermione suddenly remembered she had plans with Robbie. "Oh gods, Robbie, I'm so sorry. There was a storm, I don't know if it reached here, but in London there was a storm, and I was stuck in a bar for hours until it died down," she rambled apologetically. "I'm sorry."

To her relief, Robbie smiled, "A bar, eh? Was there anyone there to keep you company? Maybe your boyfriend, Tom, was it?"

"My boyfriends name _was_ Ron, not Tom," she said with a smile. "And no, he wasn't there. Just a guy I know from school."

Robbie raised his eyebrows, "Was, that's past tense. So I'm assuming there is no Ron in the picture anymore?"

"You assume right. That was a mess of a relationship, that was. It wasn't worth it in the long run."

"Ohh, and this other guy, the one in the bar, is that another old boyfriend?" he asked.

"Oh god no. That's Malfoy. He's a bit of a git," Hermione said with a frown.

"I see. So you're single again. Which I'm guessing means you have no plans for lunch," he said with a wink.

"You're really on a roll today with these guessing games, aren't you?"

"I'm always on a roll, Hermione. So is that a yes?" he laughed.

"Yes, it's a yes. Just give me a couple minutes to do something with my hair," she pulled at a strand of frizzy hair.

"Sure, but you look great no matter what."

"Oh, you've really put on the charm today," she said with a shake of her head. She walked back into her house and ran upstairs.

Once in her room she used her hair gel to get rid of the frizz and straighten her mop of hair. After applying a touch of make-up she ran downstairs, grabbed her coat, and walked out the front door.

"Ready," she announced.

"It took you long enough," he said with a smirk that reminded her all-too-much of Malfoy.

"It takes time to look like this, I'll have you know!" she shouted jokingly.

"Oh, I'm sure it does."

Their feet headed in the familiar direction of their favorite diner, and it was an unspoken agreement that that is where they would eat. They walked in to find the place almost empty, and were directed into a small booth by a grumpy looking waitress.

"Drinks?" she asked rudely.

"Lemonade," Robbie said, glancing at Hermione with a look on his face that clearly said "Who shoved a stick up her ass?"

"Water for me, please," Hermione said with a smile.

The waitress dropped their menus on the table and walked away without another word.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Hermione said with a giggle.

"No tip for her then!"

"Robbie, you have to tip _something_! It's rude not to. We'd be sinking to her level," she said sternly.

"Fine, fine. A dollar."

Hermione sighed and then shook her head. She turned her attention to her menu, trying to decide what to get. Finally choosing a ceaser salad, she looked up at Robbie, only to find him staring very obviously at her.

"Know what you're getting?" she asked.

"Yep. The same thing I got every time we came here over the summer. And I'm assuming you are getting the same thing as well, a ceaser salad, light on the dressing, no crutons," he said, a huge smile spilling across his handsome face.

Hermione smiled gently, "Of course. When have I ever gotten anything else?"

"Never," was the quick reply.

They glanced around for their waitress, who still hadn't brought them their drinks, or come to take their orders. They finally spotted her sitting in a booth with another waitress have a long conversation with numerous hand gestures. Annoyed, Hermione pointed this out to Robbie, who shrugged. After waiting five more mintues, Robbie got up and walked over. Hermione couldn't hear what he said, but soon enough he returned, the waitress having gotten up, coming back a moment later with their drinks.

"What do you want?" she asked bluntly.

"A ceaser salad please, light on the dressing, and no crutons, if you could," Hermione asked, trying her best to be polite and not stand up and slap the woman across the face.

The waitress turned her attention to Robbie, "And you?"

"A burger. And a large order of fries," he said without blinking.

The waitress again walked away. After fifteen minutes of polite chatting, Robbie and Hermione were presented with their food. Robbie gulped down his burger as fast as his body would tolerate, Hermione taking her time with her salad.

"I'm so full, I feel as if I could never eat again," she said rubbing her stomach.

Robbie looked down at her quarter-eaten salad. "Okay," he said, not pushing the matter.

Standing up, Hermione asked, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Robbie said, throwing some money down on the table, "let's go."

They walked in companionable silence until they reached Hermione's fence, where she could feel him moving in to kiss her goodnight. After so many summer nights ended in this exact way, she knew when it was coming. She moved away at the exact right moment and cleared her throat cautiously.

"Sorry," Robbie mumbled.

Hermione smiled weakly, "Don't be. Do you want to hang out tomorrow, maybe? Get some lunch again and go to the park?"

"Sure, I'll be here at twelve thirty?"

"Okay," she said happily. She turned away. about to walk into her house.

"And Hermione?"

She turned to face him, "Yeah?"

"Do try not to be conviently stuck in a bar with some guy," he said with a sly smile, showing her that it was a joke.

"I'll try."

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**A/N-So? What did you all think? Please leave it in a review! I need some constructive criticism! Anywhoo, the next chapter should be up withing the next week. Until then, ttfn!**


	10. Everyday Is a Sunday Evening

-Chapter Ten-

The next morning was Saturday, and the day before Hermione had to go back to Hogwarts. She got up from her bed and made it quickly but neatly, as she couldn't have anything less than perfect. After, she took a quick shower and then pulled on her favorite pair of jeans and sweater. After getting her hair to fall in neat curls around her face perfectly, she went downstairs to have an apple and say good morning to her parents before they left for their half day of work. Her parents always closed early on Saturdays, and as this was the last day they would see Hermione before Easter, they wanted to spend some time with her. Although, they didn't know about her plans to go out with Robbie.

"Good morning," Hermione said with a smile to her mother, who was standing at the counter reading a piece of mail. Hermione walked directly over to the fridge and grabbed an apple, taking a large bite out of it.

"Good morning, dear," her mother said, walking over to her daughter and kissing her on top of the head. "I'm afraid your father and I must get going, that is if he is ever ready. I swear he takes more time than I do to get ready in the morning."

Hermione laughed, "Okay, mum. I probably won't be here when you get home, I have plans with Robbie at twelve thirty."

"Oh, we actually have a doctors appointment for you at one o'clock, darling. I must have mentioned it," she said with a frown.

"No," Hermione said coldly, "you didn't."

"Oh, well at any rate, you'll have to be home for it. You haven't had a physical in some time and I think you're overdue for one."

Seeing no way out of it, Hermione mumbled "fine" before turning and walking out of the room. How dare her mother make her a doctors appointment without consulting her first? She shook her head in fury and went upstairs, pulling her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans as she walked. She hit speed-dial number seven, which was Robbie, and put the phone up to her ear.

"Hello," he said, his voice was rough from sleep.

"Hey," Hermione said softly, "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"

"It's no problem, I should get up anyways."

"Sorry," she repeated, feeling horrible. "But, my parents made me a doctors appointment that I didn't know about, so I can't meet you for lunch."

Robbie laughed. "Wow, first ditching me to hang out with some guy at a bar, and now ditching me for the doctor? Do I have cooties or something?"

"Sorry," Hermione repeated for the third time.

"Stop saying that, it's fine."

Hermione smiled, "Well I was thinking, seeing as it is only ten thirty, maybe you'd want to meet for breakfast instead?"

"Sure, that sounds great. I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

"Okay, see you."

Hermione flipped her phone shut and grabbed a pair of shoes, pulling them on quickly and walking over to her vanity to do her make-up. She put on some light eyeliner and a bit of lip gloss. She looked unhappily at her reflection. Hermione thought her cheeks were too fat, when in reality they were sunken in.

The doorbell rang downstairs, and she quickly got up and ran to get the door. She pulled it open, a bright smile plastered across her face.

"Hey, beautiful," Robbie said, looking her over.

Hermione smiled, her face turning a delicate shade of red. "Hey. Where do you want to go?"

Robbie jumped down her steps and strode across the yard, onto the street. "I dunno. There's a breakfast buffet on Cresant Street that I heard was good." He looked back at her and she shrugged.

"Sure, I've never been there. Lead the way."

They began walking at a steady pace down the street. After only a minute or so, Robbie grabbed Hermione's hand. She was surprised, but didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment. It wasn't long before they had reached the restaurant and had gotten their food from the buffet. Hermione chose an assortment of fruits and a bagel.

"That's all you're going to eat?" Robbie questioned when they sat down.

"Yeah, I expect my parents will take me out to a big lunch after the doctors," she lied, feeling guilty. She never used to lie half as much as she seemed to lately.

"Oh, all right." They dug into their food. Robbie made his large pile of waffles, pancakes, french toast, and sausages disappear in five minutes, as Hermione picked at a piece of pineapple, slicing it in half, then in thirds, then finally putting a piece in her mouth carefully.

She continued to eat five pieces of fruit this way, before declaring she was done. "Okay," Robbie said, casting a worried glance down at her plate. He then got up and went to the counter on the opposite side of the room and payed.

"You know, you don't always have to pay for me," Hermione told him. "I do have money."

"It's all right. I'd rather pay. My mother taught me to always pay when I take a girl out," he informed her with a sly wink.

Hermione laughed, "If you're sure."

"I am." She nodded and they continued towards her house.

"I have a bit more time to kill," she said slowly, "do you want to go to the park?"

"Sounds great." he said, and they continued down the familiar path to the park. Upon getting there they headed to the swings and began to move back and forth carelessly, neither saying much.

"Hermione?" Robbie asked cautiously.

She glanced over at him, tucking a curly piece of brown hair behind her ear. "Yeah?"

"Where does this leave us?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Where does _what_ leave us?" Hermione asked, tilting her head slightly to the left in confusion.

"Well, we've been spending time together, and I don't know about you, but I never stopped caring about you," he picked his way through the sentence carefully. "I guess I'm just wondering if we go back to pretending nothing ever happened between us."

Hermione sighed, "Well, I don't want to pretend nothing ever happened, because that's a lie and we both know it. I care for you too, but I don't see how our being together would work. I mean, I just broke up with my boyfriend, and I'm miles away in school and you're here. We would only have letters, and I'm not sure I can handle a long-distance relationship right now."

"Yeah, I get what you're saying." He nodded his head, "I guess I always knew that we wouldn't be able to be together; not really. Not until you're out of school at least. And by that point, some great guy will have scooped you up already," Robbie said with a fraction of a smile.

"I doubt that," she told him, shaking her head. "But, maybe we _could_ have something when I get back from school. This is our last year, after all. However, I don't want us to promise ourselves. I don't want you to feel like you can't date, or have a girlfriend come summer."

"You too. When we get back, if we happen to be free, and still feel the same for each other, then we can pick up where we left off. If not, well, we could always be friends," he said sadly.

She nodded, deep in thought. She doubted that she would be taken when the summer rolled around, but at the same time she couldn't get a certain blonde haired Slytherin out of her head. They both stood up, and started walking towards the end of Magnollia Road, where they knew they had to part ways. Figuring this was the last time they were going to see each other in a while, Hermione flung herself into Robbie's arms, engulfing him in a tight hug. As they pulled away moments later, he quickly caught her lips with his own for the briefest of seconds, before backing away a few inches.

"Bye, Hermione," he said, looking her small body over one last time. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," she promised. "You too." He nodded and she turned away, taking a right turn and heading for her house, desperately trying to stop the flow of tears that were on the verge of flowing over the brim of her eyes.

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Hermione sat in the backseat of her parent's car, staring glumly out the window at the passing trees. _"Stupid doctors," _she thought miserably. The last thing she wanted to do was waste time going to the doctors. Her parents were probably taking her so her doctor would put her on a diet, so that the wouldn't have to be ashamed to go anywhere with their fat, ugly daughter.

They finally reached the tall gray building and Hermione pulled the car door open, slamming it with force behind her. She stormed up the stairs that led into the building, her parents on her tail. They reached the elevator and Hermione stepped inside, while her father pressed the number three. They elevator arrived on the third floor and Hermione stepped out, glancing around the childish room. She was still technically a minor in the muggle world, and therefore still went to a pediatrician. 

Her father went to check her in, while her and her mother sat down in the corner of the vibrant room. Hermione glanced down at a little boy playing with a firetruck, as his sister looked on longingly. She didn't even notice her father return and sit down next to her mother, as the girl asked her brother if she could have a turn now, and he shook his head, barely acknowladging her.

"Hermione Granger," said a plump nurse standing by a door. Hermione stood up, her mother rising next to her.

"I'll wait here," her father said, picking up one of the many parenting magazines.

Hermione and her mother followed the fat nurse down a long hallway and into a small room that only had a scale.

"If you could just take your shoes off and step up there for me dear, I need to weigh you," the nurse said with a smile.

Hermione frowned, and slid off her shoes. She stepped gingerly onto the scale, which always seemed to control her life. She closed her eyes as the nurse weighed her, opening them only when she heard the nurses tut of disapproval. She glanced at the number, ninety five. She had reached her goal weight. But why didn't she think it was good enough then? She stepped off the scale and put her shoes back on.

"Okay, dearie, follow me," the woman said, exiting the room. Hermione and her mother followed the nurse down another hallway and into a slightly larger room.

"You can have a seat. The doctor should be with you soon," she informed them. Hermione's mother nodded and Hermione stared at the woman, urging her to leave. She did, and finally Hermione felt content again. That is, she _was_ feeling content, until her mother spoke.

"Ninety-five pounds, Hermione!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you thinking?" Hermione suddenly found her shoes very interesting. "That is insane! Since when do I have a daughter who cares more about how she looks than what's in her head?"

Hermione glanced up, then back down again. "Sorry, Mum." It was at that moment that the doctor came in. He was an old man, with graying hair. He had a large pair of round glasses perched on his nose and he was looking down at a chart intently, rather than looking at the other two occupants of the room.

Finally he glanced up. "Hello Miss..." he looked back at the chart, "Granger." He shot her a large smile. "How are you doing today?"

"Fine," Hermione said bluntly.

"Good, good. So what, may I ask, brings you in today?" he asked polietly.

"My mum said I needed a phys-"

"Actually, Hermione's father and I have been worried about her weight," Hermione's mother interupted her, looking straight at the doctor, who nodded. "Ever since the summer she seems to have been losing it. It started out as a small diet, I believe, but after seeing her when she got home from school-she goes to boarding school- we think it may have escalated into something more."

"I see," said the doctor (Hermione still didn't know his name). "I've seen this a lot in young girls her age," he was speaking to her mother. Both adults seemed to have forgotten Hermione was in the room at all. "Usually, I would just say to keep an eye on them, and bring them back if it seems to be getting worse. But, with Hermione's weight where it is, I think we may need to take more drastic measures. Group counseling, seeing a nutritionist, those types of things."

"Yes, that seems appropriate Doctor Isenson," Hermione's mother said."But, as I've mentioned, Hermione goes to boarding school far away, and there isn't exactly a way for here to do those things while she is there."

"I see," Dr. Isenson said. He finally looked over at Hermione, staring hard into her eyes. Hermione blinked and looked away, over at a painting of the ocean on the opposite wall. "Well, I suppose you could continue to check on your daughter while she is at school, maybe speak with one of her teachers, and she could begin treatment when she gets out for the summer. But that is quite a ways away."

Hermione's mother nodded, "Yes, it is." Both adults looked deep in thought. Hermione suddenly thought, _"This isn't fair. They can't make desicions for me! This is up to me!"_

"I don't want to go to counseling. Or, I want to wait until the summer. There's nothing wrong with me, I've just been on a diet. I'm not even as skinny as some of the girls in my year!" she shouted.

Hermione's mother sent her a pitying look, which made Hermione want to slap her. "Dear, I know this is hard, but we only have your best intrest at heart."

Hermione let out and aggravated sigh, knowing that if she pursued the matter she would only lose the battle. She knew there was no way she could go to counseling while she was at Hogwarts, and her parents wouldn't dare take her out of school...would they?

"Well, I guess the only choice we have is to wait until the summer and see how she's doing then. I may be blowing this whole thing out of proportion, doctor," her mother finally said. Hermione couldn't help but smile in relief.

"No, you probably aren't Mrs. Granger. If this isn't watched it could turn into anorexia, or bulimia, that is if it isn't already," he said sternly. "If you're sure this is what you want to do, bring Hermione in again in July and we can see how she's doing." He turned his attention to Hermione, "Hermione, I want you to start eating more. You're body needs food so that you have energy, and you are underweight for your age and height."

Hermione nodded, figuring this was the only thing that would get him to shut up. She stood from her chair along with her mother. "Thank you, doctor," her mother said as they made their way towards the door.

"Have a nice afternoon," he replied, following them out.

Hermione smiled all the way back down the long hallway, and out to the car with her parents. There was nothing wrong with her, she knew that, now her parents just needed to start believing it.

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The next morning, Hermione woke up to her alarm clock at seven-thirty, excited to go back to school. She began packing all of her belongings, checking and double-checking to make sure she had everything. When she was positive, she grabbed Tup's cage with one hand, and her trunk with the other and made her way downstairs. She gently put down her owl's cage in front of the fire, along with her trunk and made her way into the kitchen, where her parents were having breakfast.

"Well, I should get back to school," she said, walking over to her dad, who pulled her into a giant hug.

"All right, hon. You take care of yourself, you hear? And I want you to write us every other day," he said, ruffling the hair on top of her head affectionately.

"Of course, dad," Hermione promised, before moving on to her mom.

"Dear, I want you to eat more, you heard the doctor. I want to see your weight be up when you come back for Easter," she instructed her.

"Yes, mum," Hermione sighed, pulling out of the hug her mother had engulfed her in. "I'll miss you guys." They smiled gently and Hermione turned out of the room.

She grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot next to the fireplace and stepped in. "Hogwarts, Head Girl's Room," she shouted, dropping the powder and feeling herself whirl away.

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**A/N-Soo, how did you like it? Some Draco/Hermione romance coming up in the next chapter, I think. Please review you guys, it only makes me write faster. **


	11. Quiet Things That No One Ever Says

**A/N- Sorry it took so long, I tried to make this chapter a little longer. On with the story!**

-Chapter Eleven-

Hermione stepped carefully out of the fireplace of her Common Room, blinking around at the familiar surroundings. Everything looked exactly how she remembered it and she smiled slightly, glad to be home. She walked over and fell into one of the over-stuffed armchairs, closing her eyes peacefully.

"Granger."

Hermione jumped about a foot in surprise and looked over at the couch beside her. There sat Draco Malfoy. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed his strong presence before.

"Gods, Malfoy. You really know how to scare a girl, you know that?" she asked sternly.

"Yes, I did know that, actually. Although, I know how to make them feel safe too," he replied, a glint in his grey eyes.

"Sure you do," Hermione told him sarcastically. "Well, how was your break?"

"It was good. When I wasn't carrying drunken girls home and tucking them into bed, at least," he said, but he was smiling slightly.

"Oh. I was hoping you had forgotten about that," Hermione whispered, her cheeks turning pink.

"No, and I don't think I ever will, Granger, so don't go getting your hopes up."

"Sorry about that. I had a rough day," she said, still quite embarrassed.

"So you told me. Weasley being a horndog," he raised his eyebrows in amusement.

"Did I? The details are all a bit fuzzy."

"Yes, you did. So, you two, definitely over then?" Malfoy asked, sounding nonchalant.

"Oh yes. I wish it had never even started," she told him, shaking her head.

"Ouch. Harsh, Granger. I didn't know you had it in you." He chuckled lightly, and Hermione realized she was still getting used to the sound.

"You would be surprised," she informed him, joining in on his laughter.

"Well, good. You deserved better than Potter's pet weasel anyways," Draco said smoothly.

Hermione stared at him, unnerved by his kindness. "Thanks. As hard as it may be to believe, that means a lot to me."

He nodded, and then looked up at her, "This doesn't make us friends, does it?"

She sighed, knowing what _she_ wanted the answer to be and what _he_ wanted the answer to be were probably two completely different things. "Not if you don't want it to. I'm fine either way," she lied.

He looked down at his feet and shook his head in confusion, a rouge piece of blonde hair falling in front of his face, "I don't know, Granger. I know that I don't necessarily hate you like I was always taught to, and always thought was right. My father spent my whole life drilling into my head that purebloods were better than everyone, and mudbloods-no offence- were to be despised. But lately, I don't know what to believe."

"It shouldn't be that hard, Draco!" she yelled, ignoring his look of surprise when she said his first name. "You either like me or you don't! There is no in between! This mudblood shit has gone on long enough. I'm sick of all you rich, ignorant, purebloods thinking you are better than us, just because you come from a wizarding background! Who cares what your father tells you? Who cares what the rest of the wizarding world tells you? You have your own brain, Draco! Use it for once!" she screamed.

"It's not that easy," he growled.

"Fine! Continue on with your nose in the air, treating everyone whose blood isn't as _pure_ as yours like crap! Continue to call me a mudblood! I don't care anymore!" she shouted, her eyes filling with tears. She turned around and began to walk away.

"No!" the blonde called. "Every time we get into an argument _you_ get to be the one to storm off, leaving me in the dust, when I'm not even finished talking. Don't you realize that you are the first person I have ever felt this towards? Don't you realize _you_ are the one that is beginning to change my mind about things I have never before questioned? That means something, Hermione, and you know it." He took the five steps between them, staring deep into her chocolate eyes.

"I can't," she said, her tears spilling over the brim of her eyes. Draco moved to wipe them away with his thumbs, but she grabbed his wrists, bringing them back down to his sides. "I can't sit here and wait for you to decide. It doesn't work that way, Draco. I won't wait forever, you know. If you're to decide, it will be now. You will tell me right here and now what you feel for me!"

He paused, looking uncertain. "I can't do that, Hermione. These things take time."

"Wrong answer," she told him, turning around and running up the marble staircase.

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The next morning, Hermione decided to get up early, as she could not fall asleep at all that night, and knew that there was no use in continuing to try throughout the morning. She took a long shower and got ready before leaving her room to go to breakfast. She walked down the long staircase, hoping not to run into Draco, because she knew that with her red-rimmed eyes, from both lack of sleep and crying, and her hair that she just did not have the energy to tame, she looked horrible. There was no sign of the blonde, so she blew a sigh of relief and exited through the portrait hole.

Hermione walked quickly down to the Great Hall, and it wasn't until she was walking over to the Gryffindor table, that she realized she couldn't sit near Ron. She looked desperately up and down the table, trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to sit, when she spotted a familiar mass of long red hair that was Ginny Weasley. Hoping the girl wasn't as mad at her as her brother was ought to be, Hermione sat herself next to her.

"Hi," she said slowly.

The younger girl looked up from her plate of eggs and smiled, "Hey, Hermione, how's it going?"

"Oh, good. I'm assuming you're not mad at me then?" she asked.

"Nah, everyone knew you and Ron wouldn't last. You argued too much, and although make-up sex is key to a relationship, the way you guys fought, there must have been a bit too much of it," she said with a laugh.

Hermione winced, forgetting how blunt Ginny could be. "Actually, I think that was our problem," she explained.

"What, the make-up sex sucked? But make-up sex _never_ sucks! At least, not in my personal experience," she winked.

"Oh gods, Gin. Too much information. That's my best friend you're talking about! And no, I mean, our problem was that I wouldn't sleep with him," she confided in the redhead. She was her only true girlfriend, after all.

"You wouldn't?!" Ginny exclaimed. "No wonder the relationship was so short. A guy can only wait so long, Hermione, before hes got to go and find it elsewhere..."

"What ever happened to sex being a passionate act of love between two people who couldn't imagine themselves without the other?" Hermione asked, desperately.

"I don't think it was every that, Herms. I think that is just a load of shit that muggles say in their romance books to make some money," she laughed. "Let's face it, Harry and I would never be as close as we are now if we never had sex."

"As close as you are now? Harry's sitting at the other end of the table, Gin," Hermione informed her friend, looking at her as if she lost her mind.

"Oh, I know. I wanted to spend some time doing a little girltalk. We never talk anymore, Hermione! And I'm sure Ron wanted me out of the way so that he could complain to Harry about what a horrendous wench you are..."

"Ginny!"

"What?" she asked. "It's true. He's pretty bitter, you know. Boys can be such babies!" The girls broke out into a loud fit of laughter. But this moment was suddenly over when a tall, blonde figure appeared next to the Head Girl.

Hermione looked up at Malfoy rudely, "Would you like something?"

Draco took in her puffy, red eyes and knew what she had been doing all night. "The Headmaster wants to see us in his office for lunch," he told her cooly. "The password is 'Chocolate Frog.'

Don't be late."

"Fine," she told him, looking away. The boy walked away, and Ginny turned towards her best friend.

"What's up with you two? Is he why you were crying all last night?" she asked.

"I was not crying all last night!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh, so your eyes are red and bloodshot from winter allergies?" she asked sarcastically.

"We got into a bit of a..." she searched for the right word, "disagreement."

"Right. Why did you even waste your time talking to him to begin with? He's the world's biggest git!" Ginny shouted.

"I wish I knew..." Hermione said softly.

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After Herbology, which was her last class before lunch, Hermione headed in the direction of the Headmaster's office, wondering what he could possibly wish to speak with them about. She soon reached the statue of the gargoyle and said, "Chocolate Frog," gaining her admission to the winding staircase. She reached the large wooden door and knocked on the brass knocker.

"Come in," came the voice of Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione walked in to find Malfoy already seated in a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. "Good afternoon, Headmaster," she said, speaking only to the man with the grey beard and twinkling blue eyes, and ignoring the blonde ferret completely.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger. I was just telling young Mister Malfoy here about how pleased I am with your work as Head Boy and Girl. You have kept up with your rounds, and kept all of the Prefects in order and I am surprised, and happy, about how well you've been doing about the living situations. Minerva and I thought this may be a bit of a challenge for you both, but you seem to have gotten along splendidly!" the old man said, a smile filling in the lines of his face.

"Yes, things have been going quite well," she said, shooting a glare at Draco.

"Good, good. Now, onto other, and some might say more important, matters. This year, we have decided that we should play host, once again to the schools Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Only, this time not for the Triwizard Tournament. We were thinking more along the lines of a winter ball. Only for students third year and up, this time. Younger student may come if they have been asked by an older student. We will, of course, need our Head Boy and Girl to help with the planning. Are you both up to it?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione paused for a split second, before regaining her composure, "Yes, of course we're up to it Headmaster," she said.

Draco shot her a look that clearly said "speak for yourself", but grumbled an agreement a moment later. "Great, you two will need to work together to decide on a theme, a band, and proper decorations," Dumbledore instructed them. "The teachers and myself will take care of the food and any other arrangements that need to be made."

The two teenagers nodded, glancing at each other. "The date of the ball is to be January 26, a Saturday evening. I realize this only gives you twelve days to plan, and I apologize. It has taken longer than we had hoped to arrange for both schools to be able to attend. So, if one of you could send an owl to me by Thursday, informing me of your ideas, that would be grand."

Hermione nodded, "All right, Headmaster."

"Great, great. Now, I believe the two of you have lunch to go eat. Enjoy!" said Dumbledore, ushering them out the door with his hand.

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"Another Yule Ball?!" exclaimed Ginny after Hermione told her about her meeting in Dumbledore's office.

"Not a Yule Ball, exactly. A Winter Ball. Malfoy and I have to come up with a theme and all of that stuff. It sounds kind of exciting, though," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Although, I probably won't have a date. It's not as if any boys at Hogwarts fancy me."

"I bet loads of boys fancy you, Hermione," Ginny said comfortingly. "They are probably just too intimidated by you to ask you out."

"Intimidated?" asked Hermione. "By me? What is there to be intimidated of?"

"Well, they don't call you the smartest witch of the age for nothing. And you being completely gorgeous doesn't help much..." Ginny trailed off.

Hermione laughed hollowly. "Me? Gorgeous? Those are two words that should never be used in the same sentence unless not is separating them."

"Hermione, you are beautiful. Maybe you could do to put on a bit of weight, but you are easily one of the prettiest girls in your year. If it were my year too...well then my looks would completely blow yours out of the water...but as it stands..." she joked.

"Put _on_ weight? Yeah, right. If anything, more has to come off!" Hermione said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Hermione, are you serious? You are a stick. Everyone's noticed that you have become unhealthily skinny..."

"So everyone's been talking about me behind my back, have they?" Hermione asked hotly.

"No, no, it's not like that. Everyone has just noticed, we haven't been discussing it though," she said, carefully picking her way through her words so that she wouldn't further anger the brunette.

"Okay," Hermione said, not wanting to get into it. "So, are you going to buy new dress robes for the ball?"

"I don't know, probably not. Dress robes are pretty expensive..." Ginny replied with a frown.

"I'm sure Harry would be willing to pay for you," Hermione assured her.

"I don't want him to have to though," Ginny said. "I can just wear the ones I got for the Yule Ball, it's no big deal."

Hermione nodded, knowing that this was a sensitive subject for Ginny, as it was for all of the Weasleys. "Well you must at least come with me to pick out mine," she told her. "We have a Hogsmeade weekend this weekend, we can go then."

"Okay," Ginny agreed.

"Well, I should probably get back to my dormitory, me and Malfoy have to discuss the theme..." Hermione said, standing up.

"All right, I'll see you tomorrow, Hermione," Ginny said, smiling and picking up a book.

Hermione walked out of the Gryffindor Common Room and through the portrait hole, heading in the familiar direction of her own dormitory. It took only three minutes to reach the portrait of the smiling witch.

"Love conquers," she said sadly.

"Indeed it does," said the witch with a smile, swinging open. Hermione crawled through and spotted Draco already seated in one of the sofas, a piece of parchment and quill waiting on the small table in front of him.

"You're late," he said.

"Oh, shut it," Hermione told him.

"Oh, feisty tonight, are we?" he asked her.

"I told you to shut it, Malfoy!" she shouted back.

"Back to last names, are we? Last night I was Draco." he smirked.

Hermione whipped out her wand, unnerving the blonde. "You are going to shut up right now, _Malfoy_, and we are going to get through this as quickly as possible. If you cause any trouble, then I will hex you into next week," she told him.

He just glared at her for a moment before jerking his head in response. "Well, let's start then."

"Fine." Hermione stored her wand back inside her robes and sat next to him on the couch, but as far away as she could while still being on the same piece of furniture.

"So, I was thinking," he began.

"You were thinking? That certainly is a first," Hermione interrupted him.

"I thought we were going to get through this as quickly as possible?" he asked. She sat in silence. "That's what I thought. Now I was thinking that we should go with the theme "Winter Wonderland." I know it's overrated, but it seems the simplest. And we could just get the Weird Sisters to play again, they are popular and were a hit at the Yule Ball."

Hermione nodded, "That sounds fine."

"All right," he continued. "That just leaves decorations. We will have the stage at the front of the hall, obviously, and then the dance floor, and tables to eat at. We ask Dumbledore to make the sky a dark night scattered with hundreds of stars, and a fireworks show at the end. Ice sculptures of course, and tinsel everywhere. Sound okay?"

Hermione gaped at him. She was expecting to have to do all of the work, and him just sit there and nod to everything she said. "Yes. It sounds okay."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to bed," he told her.

"Wait-" Hermione called out. The Slytherin turned around, his gaze calculating.

"You surprised me. I didn't think you would take this seriously," she began.

"And...? Granger, if there is no point to this then I'm leaving now," he said rudely.

"I just wanted to say good job I guess. And thanks...for helping out," she said, her cheeks turning pink and she couldn't remember why she'd called him back in the first place.

"You know, I'm not as evil as you seem to see me, Hermione," he said, and turned around and left the room.

Hermione sighed, gathered the parchment she had scrawled his ideas onto, and went up into her own room. She pulled open the door, and was surprised to see a small barn owl sitting by the window, with a letter tied to its leg. She walked over to the owl, untied the letter, and ripped it open.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I know we haven't kept in contact the past two years, but as my school is coming to Hogwarts for the Winter Ball, I thought this letter may be appropriate. I know there won't be any time to speak with you before the ball, and I wanted to ask you ahead of time if you would be my date, before some other guy asks. Please send your answer by return owl._

_--Viktor Krum_

Hermione blinked and reread the letter once, and then twice. She hadn't corresponded with Viktor for, as the letter said, two years. They had tried to keep in touch after the Triwizard Tournament, but it hadn't worked out. Hermione figured this was going to be the only person to ask her to the ball, and she had always liked Viktor, even if it wasn't exactly in a romantic way. She picked up a blank piece of parchment and a quill and began to write.

_Dear Viktor,_

_I would be delighted to go to the ball with you. I have missed our letters and am sorry that they stopped so suddenly. I can't wait to see you again. I hope you are well._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

She sighed, wrote Viktor's name on the front of the envelope and tied it to the barn owl's leg. She then crawled into bed and flipped off the light, ready to get some much needed sleep.

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**A/N- Sorry it has taken so long to update, but I have been so busy. I know I promised more Dramione romance and there wasn't any in this chapter, but it **_**is **_**coming, I promise! And don't worry, Hermione and Viktor will **_**not**_** become a couple. **

**I'm trying not to make Hermione's eating disorder the whole story, because I hate fics that it is solely about that. I don't know if I'm doing a good job or not, but I'm trying.**

**And thank you to all of you wonderful reviewers! You always make my day. **


	12. All Tomorrow's Parties

**A/N- Well, I don't know what else to say, but enjoy!**

-Chapter Twelve-

Days passed quickly at Hogwarts in the next week. Dumbledore had announced the Winter Ball, which was in seven days time. All the female students were discussing dates and dresses, while certain males were still trying to pluck up enough courage to ask someone to be their date. Ronald Weasley was one such male.

"It's the same problem as for the Yule Ball!" he complained as he, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione walked down the cold streets of Hogsmeade, bundled up to keep the bitter wind from nipping at exposed skin. He and Hermione both tried their best to pretend that the other wasn't there.

"And what problem's that?" Harry asked.

"They travel in packs! You can't get one on their own to ask them!" Ron shouted. "They don't even go to the bloody bathroom alone!"

"Why, were you hoping to follow one in there?" Ginny asked, smirking in a way that reminded Hermione very much of Draco.

"No! I just mean that they don't do _anything_ alone! At this rate I'll end up going alone," he said sadly. The others shook their heads sympathetically. "Well, maybe I won't be the only one going solo," he said, grinning at Hermione in a nasty way.

"Hermione's not going alone, Ronald," his sister informed him.

"Oh, really? What, is she going as a third wheel with you and Harry, then?" Ron laughed.

"No! She's going with Viktor Krum," Ginny said, a victorious smile spread across her face. She knew that would shut him up. Ron made a face that was something between a scowl and a grimace.

"Hermione would appreciate it if you stopped talking about her as if she weren't here," Hermione said, annoyed.

"Sorry, Hermione. But it's true, you are going with Viktor Krum, which I must say is pretty amazing, considering you haven't spoken in two years," Ginny told her, looking awed.

"Mmm..." Hermione said, glancing the other way. "Ginny, let's go in here and look at dresses for the ball," she said, pointing to a small shop to their right.

"Hermione, I told you...I can't get a new dress," Ginny said, sending her a look that clearly said to shut up.

"It's on me Gin," Harry told her, reaching into his cloak and pulling out a bag filled with coins.

"No, it's fine, Harry. I still have the one from the Yule Ball. I know a spell that I can try to make it slightly longer. I grew a few inches since three years ago," Ginny smiled.

Harry continued to pull out a handful of gold, "Here you go, babe," he said, handing it to her. "Get the most beautiful dress in the store."

Ginny's cheeks turned slightly red, but she reached out and accepted the money, pecking him quickly on the lips. "Thanks, Harry. Do you want to just meet us back at the castle? This may be awhile..."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "We'll see you then." The two boys walked in the direction of Hogwarts, both already having their dress robes. Hermione and Ginny entered the small shop, which was called _Mirelza's_. When they entered they were overwhelmed by the seas of bright colored dresses.

"Merlin," Ginny whispered, reaching out to touch a pink satin gown.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, right before an older woman strolled out of a room in the back.

"Good afternoon, ladies. I'm Mirelza. Is there anything I could help you with today?" she asked with a bright smile.

"We're looking for dresses for a ball at our school," Ginny told Mirelza.

"Hogwarts, I assume?" Hermione and Ginny nodded. "You two are not the first to come in today, and heaven knows you won't be the last," she said. "There are no changing rooms here, all you have to do it point your wand at the dress you would like to try on and say _'Abeo Ornatus' _and the dress will appear on you."

"Okay," Hermione said. "Thank you." The older woman nodded, before bustling back into the room in the back.

"Where to start..." Ginny said, looking around at the dresses longingly. She picked up a pretty one, in a shade of bright pink and held it in front of her. "Abeo Ornatus," she said, and suddenly the mass of winter clothes that the girl had been wearing were gone, replaced with the dress.

Hermione, who knew almost nothing about fashion, knew that the dress did nothing for her. She shook her head, "Gin, I'm sorry, but your hair and that dress clash way too much."

Ginny nodded sadly. "I hate being a redhead," she grumbled. "I can never pull off wearing pink!"

Hermione frowned, and picked up a shimmery green dress. "Abeo Ornatus," she said, glancing in the mirror opposite her. "No way," she told Ginny.

The redhead nodded in agreement, grabbing a deep blue colored one and muttering the spell to make it appear on her small frame. The young girl studied herself in the mirror carefully, twirling around slowly. "I don't know. What do you think, Hermione?"

Hermione looked away from the dress she was currently looking at, turning to look at her best friend. "Wow, Gin. That dress looks like it was made for you! You have to get it," she told her.

"I suppose," Ginny said, still examining herself. She pointed her wand at her clothes, which had emerged in a neat pile on a chair next to her after trying on the first dress, and said, "Abeo Ornatus," causing them to appear on her again, the dark blue dress safely on a hanger.

Hermione looked around the shop quicker now, trying to hurry so that Ginny wouldn't have to wait too long. She scanned the room carefully, a long, red dress catching her eye. She walked over to it and examined it. It was beautiful. She knew that she would never be able to pull this dress off, but also knew she had to try anyway. "Abeo Ornatus," she whispered, her eyes clamped shut.

"Hermione, you're a goddess," she heard Ginny say behind her. Hermione opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. Even she had to admit that she looked good, maybe even great. The dress clung to all the right places, excentuating her tiny frame. There were no curves left to cling to, but the dress made it appear as though there were, but didn't make her look fat at all. Hermione knew she was in love with this dress. "You're buying that dress, I don't care what you say," Ginny told her.

Hermione nodded dumbly and quietly said the spell that made her clothes appear on her once again, walking over to the cash register with Ginny, each of the girls carrying their dresses.

Once the new dresses were paid for, Hermione and Ginny worked their way back up to the castle, both elated with their new gown. Ginny hurried off to the Gryffindor Common Room, excited to show Harry, while Hermione headed to her own Common Room, realizing she had no one to show.

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Hermione crawled through the portrait hole and walked into her Common Room, surprised to find Draco Malfoy laying horizontally on one of the overstuffed couches, shirtless. Trying her hardest to avert her eyes from his chiseled chest, she continued across the room, laying her dress carefully on the armchair next to him. The dress was in a long bag, so even though the blonde glanced at it, he could not see what it looked like.

He glanced up at her, looking slightly uninterested, "What's that?"

"Nothing of your concern," she glared at him. "Go put on a shirt or something."

"This is my Common Room, and I can dress how I like, thank you. Normally, I would walk around stark naked, but that might give you a heart attack or something," he said with a smirk.

"You wish," Hermione told him. "It would more than likely make me puke."

"You're too uptight, Granger. I wouldn't mind if you were to trot around naked," he chuckled.

"Malfoy, you're sick. Let's get this straight right now. I would _never_ want to see your ugly pale ass naked, and all comments about me walking aroung naked, are to stop right now, or I will have no choice but to hex your hair irreversibly pink," she snarled.

"You wouldn't dare," he told her.

"Try me."

They both looked away from each other, Hermione walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple, the first and last thing she would eat that day. She carried it into the Common Room and sat on the armchair, next to her dress, taking a large bite out of it.

"So you do eat, then?" came Malfoy's annoying voice.

"Oh, shove it," she told him. "You know very well that I eat, Malfoy, so that's quite enough."

He shook his head, disbelieving. "Are you going to show me what's in the bag?"

"No, I'm not," she said simply.

"Why not? Embarassed by it?" he asked.

"Actually, no. You'll see at the ball."

"So it's your dress then? Have you managed to find someone stupid enough to be willing to go with you?"

"Yes, I have. And I hate to be the one to break it to you, but _he_ asked _me_. Not the other way around," she said, casting him an evil look. "And I'm not going to sit down here with you and pretend like everything is great between us, because it's not. Far from it. I haven't forgotten your choice, and I'm not going to! Why don't you just leave me the hell alone, and go find some of your _pureblood_ friends to talk to? I'm sure they are much more interesting than some dirty mudblood."

Hermione grabbed her dress and rose from her seat, walking calmly upstairs and into her room, the only sign of her anger being the loud bang of the door slamming behind her.

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The day of the Winter Ball, Hogwarts was chaotic. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were due to arrive at noon, and Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. Everywhere you went there were girls giggling, teachers trying to keep order, and a handful of now completely desperate boys trying to find some lonely female to be their dates.

Hermione, however, was not one of the giggling girls. She was in her bedroom, studying Arithmancy and trying to avoid glancing out her window every five seconds to see if the Durmstrang ship had arrived. She looked at the clock, twelve fifteen. Where were they?

Finally, she heard excited screetches coming from somewhere outside the castle walls. Taking a look out her window (which conviantly faced the Black Lake) for the tenth time in the past five minutes, she saw a large ship beginning to emerge from the lake's depths.

Stopping only momentarily to glance at her reflection in the mirror, Hermione ran out of her Common Room and followed a horde of people down onto the school grounds. They lined the edge of the lake, watching as numerous Durmstrang student climbed off the ship and strode across the green grass. Finally, Hermione spotted a tall, handsome figure headed toward her, and squinting into the afternoon sun, she was able to tell it was Viktor.

"Hermy-own-ninny! he exclaimed, wrapping her in a hug.

"Hello, Viktor," she smiled up at him.

He gazed down at her fondly. "I hope you are vell."

Hermione nodded, "Very. You look well too." She glanced over at the tall, dark man who was now coming off the ship. "Who's that?" she asked.

Krum looked to where she was staring. "Oh, that is our new Headmaster, Professor Averston. Karkaroff left after the Triwizard Tournament, remember?"

"Oh yes, I remember now," she said.

Professor Averston was now calling all of his students to gather around him, instructing them to go back into the ship to begin to get ready for the ball. Krum bid a quick goodbye to Hermione, telling her he would meet her at the bottom of the staircase that led into the Great Hall at eight, when the ball started, and departed. Hermione realized that it was now nearing one-thirty, and she had to begin to get ready.

Once Hermione reached her dormitory, she walked straight into her master bathroom. She turned a few different taps on the tub, trying to find the bubble bath she liked best. After choosing one in a shade of delicate purple, she stripped her clothes off and stepped into the warm pool-sized bath. She spent about two hours swimming laps around the tub and relaxing. Hermione had never taken this long of a bath and she enjoyed it immensely. But when she realized it was nearing four o'clock, she quickly jumped out of the oversized bathtub and wrapped a towel around her tiny frame.

Hermione walked over to the opposite side of the room to where a small, white scale lay. She stepped onto it and closed her eyes, awaiting the number that was sure to be too high. After a moment she slowly opened her doe-like eyes, and glared at the number. _Ninety-three. _Only two pounds in over a week. Hermione shook her head in disbelief. She hadn't weighed herself since that doctors appointment, as she was sick of the scale ruling her life, deciding if that day would be a good one or bad one. She figured it had to be all the fruit she was eating, to keep herself from fainting again.

Hermione stepped off the scale and walked into her large bedroom, sitting down at her vanity. She took her wand out and used it to dry her hair so that it was straight and frizz-free. Now she had to decide what she wanted to do with it. It was at this moment that Ginny Weasley burst through her bedroom door.

"Hermione! My hair is a _nightmare_! Nothing works, it all looks horrible," she wailed.

"Oh, Ginny. I'm sure it isn't all that bad," Hermione said cheerfully. "I'm having trouble with my hair too, if that makes you feel any better."

"Not really. Worse, actually." Ginny looked around the room, realizing she had never been in there before. "This is a really nice room, Hermione."

"It is, isn't it? I'm quite fond of it," Hermione told the younger girl.

Ginny sat deep in thought, when all of a sudden she thought of something. "Hermione, I've just had a brilliant idea. How about I'll do your hair, and you'll do mine. And no matter what, we have to wear it how the other makes it. Otherwise, I'll keep on changing it until I'm completely bald."

"I suppose. As long as you don't make me look dreadful," Hermione responded. "You can do mine first I suppose."

Ginny nodded and stood up, turning Hermione's chair around so that she couldn't see herself in the vanity mirror. "No looking until I'm done," she said to Hermione's squeal of protest.

"Fine," Hermione grumbled, closing her eyes and trying her best to relax.

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An hour later, Hermione was beginning to grow impatient. Ginny had been putting her hair up, taking it down, curling it, straightening it, and she thought this was beginning to get ridiculous.

"Are you almost done back there, Ginny? This is taking far too long."

"Er, almost. Give me another thirty minutes!" Ginny said.

"Thirty minutes?! You've already had an hour! What exactly are you doing to me Ginny Weasley?" Hermione asked.

"I've just had a bit of trouble deciding which style to use. I'm horrible at making decisions, you know that!" said Ginny, sounding desperate.

"Thirty minutes, and that is all. I mean it, Gin," Hermione warned.

"Okay."

Finally, forty minutes later, Ginny allowed Hermione to turn her chair around and look at herself in the mirror.

"Do you hate it?" Ginny asked, as Hermione's jaw dropped.

"No. No, Ginny, I love it!" Hermione said, a brilliant smile spreading across her face.

Her hair was mostly up, all in curls, except for a few curly pieces falling in her face. It was simple, which was what Hermione wanted, but formal at the same time.

"Alright. Your turn," she said, standing from her seat.

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An hour later, (it would have been shorter, but every time Hermione turned Ginny's chair around so that she could see her reflection, Ginny protested) Ginny had finally agreed on a hairstyle. It was even more simple than Hermione's, but it was the only one that she liked, so simple it was. Her hair was stick straight down her back, but the ends were curled. In short, she looked gorgeous. At this point it was only six-thirty, and they had an hour and a half to kill.

"Hermione, I'm _bored_," Ginny said from the chair she was sprawled out in.

"Gin, sit up, you'll wreck your hair," the older witch advised. "Well, there must be something to do."

Ginny sat up straighter, before standing altogether. "Let's go to the Gryffindor Common Room. I'm sure the guys haven't even started getting ready and could use some female input."

"Probably," Hermione said, rising from her seat on the bed.

The girls walked to the Gryffindor Tower, not at all surprised at the sight that met their eyes when they entered.

"It's exactly how I left it," Ginny commented, glancing around the Common Room with a smile playing at her features.

Calm and quiet was not the way to explain the Gryffindor Common Room. Everywhere you turned there were girls running around looking for lost make-up and guys trying to find their other shoe. It was pure havoc.

"Gods," Hermione muttered. "Let's go find Harry and Ron."

Hermione and Ginny walked up the stairs to the boy's dorms, instantly spotting the two teenage boys when they reached the top.

"Harry," Ginny called, walking over to him and giving him a quick kiss. "You like?" she asked as she twirled around.

"Of course. You look beautiful, Ginny," he smiled at her. "And Hermione, you look great too."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione beamed at him. Hermione glanced over at Ron, who had just finished putting on the dress robes Fred and George had bought him the summer of fourth year. "You look handsome, Ron," she said, trying her best to be civil to her ex-boyfriend.

"Thanks," he grunted in response, glancing down at his shoes.

Ginny looked back and forth between the two, shaking her head in disgust. "This has gone on long enough," she said. "You two were too good of friends for something this silly to ruin it! I want you both to accept that you made mistakes, and move on."

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, neither saying anything. After a moment, Hermione realized Ron was never going to make the first move and one of them had to be the mature one. "I'm very sorry, Ronald," she said sincerely. "I never meant to hurt you."

Ron nodded, "I'm sorry too 'Mione. I wish I hadn't been such a git."

"It's okay. It's in the past now, right?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Good," said Ginny. "Now that _that's_ taken care of... what do you guys want to do. Me and Hermione assumed you'd be still getting ready, but I guess we underestimated you two."

"I guess you did," Harry said with a sly grin, before pushing Ginny onto his bed and tickling her.

Hermione shook her head at the couple, knowing that Ginny was going to be upset when she got up and realized that her hair was all messed up. Hermione and Ron watched the couple attack each other for about twenty minutes, before Hermione looked at her watch and saw that it was seven-fifty and she was due to meet Krum at eight.

"Ginny. Ginny, stop!" she called out, but the redhead either ignored her, or didn't hear her. Irritated, Hermione walked over to the two and physically pulled them apart. "Honestly!" she exclaimed.

"What, Hermione?" asked Ginny, standing up and walking over to a mirror to inspect her hair, which had, miraculously, managed to stay in tact.

"The ball starts in ten minutes. We have to get down to the Great Hall," Ron told them and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Whoops," Ginny giggled. "I guess we got a little carried away there," she said to Harry.

Harry nodded, not looking at all embarrassed. "Well, let's get going, shall we?"

The teens walked the short path from Gryffindor Tower down to the stairs that led to the Great Hall. From the top, Hermione spotted Viktor waiting patiently at the foot of them. She walked smoothly down, pulling up her dress slightly so that she wouldn't trip, smiling when she reached him.

"Hermy-own-ninny, you look lovely," he said, a smile spreading across his handsome features.

"Thank you, Viktor," she said, glancing at her feet in embarrassment. "You look good too."

"Vell, let's go in then, shall ve?" he asked, taking her arm. She nodded and they walked into the room.

Hermione and Draco's (but mostly Draco's) work had really come together nicely. The room was a colorful winter wonderland. The band hadn't started to play yet, but there was soft music coming from somewhere that couldn't be seen. Krum led Hermione over to a table and they sat facing each other.

"I haff really missed you, Hermy-own-ninny," he said, smiling slightly.

It took Hermione a lot of self control to not try to correct Viktor on how to say her name, as she had spent almost all of fourth year trying to do so and had never been successful. "Yes, it has been awhile," she said, as she spotted Draco walk in accompanied by Pansy.

_Great,_ she thought. Draco looked very handsome in his black dress robes, and Pansy almost looked pretty in her violet ones. They sat themselves at the table next to Hermione and Victor's, Draco glaring at Krum's back. This cheered Hermione slightly, so she turned her attention back to her date. Almost all of the school had gathered in the room now, and the band had started to play.

"Vould you like to dance?" Viktor asked, rising from his seat and extending his hand out to her.

"Sure," Hermione agreed, taking his hand and walking with him to the dance floor, Draco staring daggers at their backs.

The couple danced to two fast songs, and a slow one had just started to play as Hermione noticed Pansy drag a sullen Draco onto the dance floor. She also noticed Ron dancing with a pretty Ravenclaw girl, and Harry and Ginny practically groping each other as they danced.

Viktor pulled her closer than they already were, making Hermione uncomfortable and causing her to pull back again. He only persisted by pulling her closer. Sighing, Hermione let him, and carefully rested her head on his shoulder, in the position he had pulled her into. Casting a careful glance at Draco and Pansy, Hermione saw him staring at her, his brow furrowed and knew he must have seen the exchange.

Finally, the song ended and Hermione suggested that they go and sit down at their table to eat. Krum nodded in agreement, and they sat down, their plates instantly filling with each of their favorite foods. Hermione was impressed by the spell that Dumbledore must have done, and smiled slightly, for the first time since she had entered the ball.

They ate in awkward silence and Hermione was so busy staring at her plate to avoid looking at Viktor, that she only vaguely registered Draco and Pansy seat themselves once again at the table next to them.

"Haff I mentioned how much I haff missed you?" Krum asked, as he scooted his chair closer to Hermione's.

"Er, once or twice, yes," she said, leaning back slightly, obviously uncomfortable.

"Vell, I haff, very much. You look so beautiful tonight, I don't know how you don't haff a boyfriend," he said as he moved his face closer to hers. Hermione knew what was coming, and was sure she didn't want it to, but she didn't know what else to do but to sit there and wait for it to happen.

Sure enough, a second later Viktor had pressed his lips firmly to hers. Hermione reacted in the only way she knew how; she pushed him off of her, shaking her head in disgust.

"Viktor, I don't think this is appropriate," she said.

"Vhy not? Ve are good together, Hermy-own-ninny. You feel it as vell," Krum said, kissing her once again. Hermione didn't know what to do, but struggle slightly. She knew that he was crazy to do this here, in front of her whole school. He resisted her struggling, keeping himself firmly pressed against her, when suddenly, Hermione felt him being ripped away.

Shaking slightly, Hermione glanced up, wide-eyed, not ready for the sight that met her eyes. Draco Malfoy was holding Viktor by the scruff of his robes, pulling him up quickly. Krum whipped around, glaring at the blonde.

"I believe she said no," Draco said, not backing down. The two were the same height, although Viktor was slightly larger in the shoulders.

"I don't think this is any of your business, _Malfoy_," he spat. "I think you should go back to your ugly date and stay away from Hermy-own-ninny," he said, shoving him slightly.

"Well, _I _think that you should walk yourself back to your ship and spend the rest of the night there, and _never_ come near Hermione again," Draco said, pushing the Bulgarian back.

Hermione stared at the pair, not believing what was unfolding right in front of her. Within seconds of Draco's push, the boys were swinging at each other, a large crowd of students gathering around them.

"Stop it!" she screamed desperately, as Draco pinned Krum under him and began to punch him in the face. She ran over to them and tried to pull Draco off of him. "I said stop it!" she repeated.

Draco glanced back at her, pausing for a moment, and at seeing the look in her eyes stopped altogether. It was also at this moment that Professor McGonagall shoved her way through the crowd. Draco hastily got off of Viktor and stepped to stand next to Hermione.

"Professor, it's not Draco's fault," Hermione began.

"I don't care what started it! I can not believe that a Hogwarts student would sink to the level of muggle dueling! Detention, Mr. Malfoy, every night next week," the professor said. "Mr. Weasley, kindly escort Mr. Krum to the hospital wing. His own headmaster can deal with him." Ron looked infuriated, but agreed.

Hermione turned to Draco, "Draco...I," she began.

"Forget it, Granger," he said, turning on his heel and walking swiftly out of the Great Hall.

Hermione sighed and followed him, figuring he would head back to their Dormitories. She reached the portrait hole just as it was swinging shut behind the boy.

"Love conquers," she said. The portrait swung open to reveal Draco ripping off his already loosened tie.

"Damn it!" he shouted, obviously not aware of Hermione's presence.

"Draco," Hermione said gently, walking over to him.

"What, Granger? I get it, okay? You don't want me to talk to you! You don't want anything to do with me!" he yelled.

"How the hell do you know what I want?" Hermione screamed. "Am I supposed to want to talk to someone who believes me to be dirty? Someone who cares _so much_ about what other people think that they don't want to be seen talking to a mudblood?!"

"I don't- It doesn't matter what anyone thinks! It may have before, but it doesn't now! I don't believe that mudbloods aren't worth talking to, you changed that. Remember that conversation, Hermione? I know I sure as hell won't ever forget it," he sighed.

"Of course I remember, Draco. I remember that conversation to be the one that you couldn't choose! You couldn't decide if you wanted to remain an ignorant ass or you wanted to become a decent human being, remember?" she asked.

"It was too soon. I wasn't ready," Draco admitted.

"Do you claim to be now? What is this conversation even about, Draco? What do you want from me?!" she cried desperately, throwing her arms in the air, her eyes filling to the brim with tears.

"You, Hermione, I just want you," he whispered, before capturing her lips with his.

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**A/N- Yes, that's right, now you must smother me in kisses for finally putting in a bit of Dramione-ness! Haha, okay. Soo thanks to all you amazing people who reviewed and put in your thoughts. I will try to make them happen as the story continues.**

**You see that button at the left hand corner of the page? Hit 'go' and give me your input! **


	13. You Call It Madness, I Call It Love

-Chapter Fourteen-

Hermione only let the kiss continue for a few seconds, before she placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him away.

"Wait," she whispered.

Draco looked at her questioningly. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't do this, Draco," she said, taking a step back.

"Sure you can. You were doing just fine," Draco said, leaning in again.

Hermione took another step backwards, the back of her leg brushing the side of the small coffee-table. "No, _we_ can't do this."

He shot her a cautious look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, one second we're at each other's throats, and then we're snogging the next?" Hermione shook her head. "That won't work for me. You know that won't work for me."

"Why do you assume that we would be 'at each other's throats'?" he asked indignantly.

"Have you met us?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Now, Granger, it's not polite to answer a question with a question."

"Oh, because you're the king of politeness," she said sarcastically.

The two glared at each other.

"See!" she exclaimed. "This is what I mean!"

Malfoy's face broke out into a grin. "You're cute when you're mad, you know that, Granger?" he said, and rushed in to kiss her. But this time, she let him.

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Hermione and Draco were sitting on the softest couch in their Common Room. Draco had his arm wrapped loosely aroud her waist and her head was resting softly on his shoulder. Both of their lips were red from kissing so much.

"So does Durmstrang go back tomorrow?" Draco asked.

"Yes, first thing in the morning, I believe," Hermione replied. "Not soon enough though..."

He nodded in agreement. "He had better never come near you again." Draco muttered.

Hermione smiled and Draco looked over at the warm fire in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. "Draco?" she asked quietly.

He looked down at her fondly. "Mmm?"

"I know I'm trying to figure out too much tonight and I should probably just let this go until the morning, but I need to know," she said seriously.

"What is it?"

"Are we...together?" she asked shyly.

He raised his eyebrows. "What do you think?"

"I think that I want us to be," she whispered. "Actually, strike that. I _know_ that I want us to be. But are we?"

"Well, I want us to be too. So if both sides agree, I think we've got something," he smiled.

Hermione nodded. "Good."

Draco turned his attention back to the crackling fire.

"Draco?" Hermione asked again.

He looked back at her, "Yes?"

"What about everyone else?" she asked.

Draco sighed heavily. "I don't know, Hermione. If my father finds out..."

"If your father finds out...what?" she asked timidly.

"It would just be better for both of us if he did not find out, the war's got him on edge as it is. And I don't trust my housemates as far as I can throw them," he said bitterly.

"Harry and Ron wouldn't be too pleased either," she offered.

"Oh yes, we can't get Golden Boy and his pet Weasel upset, now can we?"

"Draco..."

"Hermione."

Hermione sighed. "You are going to have to get used to them, you know? I can't spend my time breaking up fights between you three, especially if we hide this. I can't come rushing to your defense.

"I wouldn't need you to," he said hotly. "I can hold my own."

"I know you can, I just meant-"

"I know what you meant," Draco frowned. "But you do understand that I couldn't be kind to you either. It would be worse for you in the long run. Nothing can change, Hermione, and I mean nothing."

"I understand, but I'm not sure it's worth it," she said quietly.

"Hermione, my father can _not_ find out. The only way to make sure this doesn't happen is to keep it a secret. I wouldn't put anything past that man," Draco said bitterly.

"We haven't really talked about it, you know?"

"Haven't talked about what?" he asked, confused.

"The war. I mean, not even Harry and Ron talk about it much with me. All I know is that after Hogwarts they're going-" she stopped herself.

"You can trust me, Hermione," he said, staring into her eyes.

"Can I, though? What side are you even on in the war?" she asked.

Draco paused. "Honestly, I hope Voldemort is brought to an end. I know I won't be on his side, but I haven't actually decided to be on Potter's either. I guess I'm on my own side," he said finally. "Things aren't set in stone for me like they are you. I'm not sure what I want."

"Not everything's set in stone for me, Draco. I mean, yes, I know where I stand in the war. But, I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't know many things."

"You don't have to yet. We don't even know where this war is going to leave us. We can't be sure that Potter's going to win," he said reasonably.

"Yes, but we should at least be prepared if he does," Hermione replied. "It just seems kind of silly to wait around for the war to end before starting to build a life."

Draco sighed. "We're not going to figure this all out tonight," he said. "Why don't we get some sleep?"

Hermione stood up and stretched. "Okay, I guess you're right." She pulled him up and pecked him on the lips, backing away when he moved in for more. "Goodnight, Draco."

"You're going to be the death of me, Granger," he said with a smirk before she turned around and walked up the marble staircase and into her room, he door lightly clicking shut behind her.

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The next morning Hermione woke up well before she had to on a Sunday, knowing that Draco never slept late and she wanted to fit in as much time with him as she could. After taking a quick shower, doing her hair so that it fell in perfect waves around her face, and getting dressed into a pair of her favorite jeans and a long-sleeved red shirt, she made her way downstairs. She glanced around the Common Room. He wasn't there. Where had the ferret gotten to?

She strolled into the kitchen and found him sitting at the table alone, sipping coffee, and flipping through the _Daily Prophet_, once again shirtless. There was a plate full of food in front of him, and one across from him, and she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach that told her that Draco wasn't about to have Pansy over for breakfast, and that food was for her.

She walked over to her new boyfriend and placed her hands over his eyes. "Guess who?"

He laughed and turned in his chair, grabbing her by the waist and pulling him into his lap. "Why, good morning," he said sweetly.

"'Morning," she chuckled, tilting her head up to kiss him lightly.

"I made breakfast," he smiled.

"So you did," Hermione said, getting up off his lap and sitting in her own seat across from him. She looked down at her food and frowned.

"What's wrong? Not hungry?" he practically accused.

"Er-"

"You've got to eat. I won't sit here and watch you starve yourself to death, Hermione."

"Draco, really, it's too early for this," she sighed.

"No, Hermione. You knew this was coming. We're going to talk about this," he said.

"Talk about _what_? There isn't anything to talk about!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hermione. I'm not going to play games with you. You're practically disappearing. Remember when I said I didn't think you could get any thinner? Well, I was wrong. Apparently you can, and you did," his voice was firm, but he didn't yell.

"Draco..."

"No, Hermione. I'm serious about this. You've got to eat," Draco said desperately. "I can't-"

"You can't what?"

"I- I can't have anything happen to you. I won't," he said, his voice raw with emotion.

Hermione nodded, her throat clenching. "I can try," she said.

Draco smiled slightly. "Good. Want to eat some breakfast with me, then?"

"Sure," Hermione said, picking up her fork and staring at the food in front of her. It was an array of bacon, sausage, and pancakes; some of the fattiest foods she could think of.

Draco smiled encouragingly at her, taking a large bite of his own pancake. He nodded at her as if to tell her to go ahead. She nodded back and began to take slow bites of her pancake, then her speed improved as she moved onto the sausage and bacon. Within moments, she was done, taking large gulps of her orange juice.

"See, you were hungry," Draco said, smiling. He stood up and cleared the plates away.

She smiled back. "Yes, I guess." But suddenly she got that horrible feeling, the same one she got when she had realized how much she had consumed at Christmas dinner. "I'm going to go take a shower, Draco," she said, her voice tight.

"Didn't you already take one? I thought I heard the water running..." he said, glancing sideways at her.

"Yes, but I'm in the mood for another. I'll be down shortly," she assured him, turning around and practically running upstairs.

When she reached her bathroom she ripped open the door, hurrying in and slamming it behind her. She quickly turned on the shower, to muffle any noise that might be heard, and also so that Draco would think she was actually taking a shower. She walked over the porcelain toilet bowl and got down on her knees, shoving two fingers in her mouth, she made her breakfast come up backwards.

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An hour later, Hermione was back downstairs with Draco sitting on their favorite couch in the Common Room playing Wizards Chess.

"I really don't understand why anyone wastes their time playing this game," Hermione said as her knight was crushed by Draco's queen. "It is so pointless!"

"Face it, Hermione. You just don't like to lose," Draco smirked.

"No! I just don't see why anyone gets pleasure out of instructing little figures to move around a checkered board and destroy each other. It seems rather aimless," she complained.

"Let's do something else then," Draco smiled, putting the chess board on the floor and laying her back so that she was horizontal. He began to kiss her passionately, before making his way down her neck, causing her to arch her back in pleasure. His hands found themselves were her shirt met her jeans and he began to slide his fingers under the light material of her long-sleeved T-shirt.

"Draco," Hermione said, pulling gently at his hands.

He backed off instantly and began to kiss her lips again, heatedly. She ran her hands through his hair, smiling into his mouth.

Draco pulled away and looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you laughing at me, Granger?"

Hermione smiled again and ran her fingers once again through his hair, this time to flatten it, as it was sticking out at odd angles. "No. You're just too perfect," said looking up from below him.

"I try," he smirked, leaning down to kiss her again.

"Hermione!" they suddenly heard. Sharp knocks were coming through the portrait hole. "Hermione Granger you had better open this thing _right now_!" came the voice of Ginny Weasley.

"Shit," Draco muttered, climbing off of Hermione and moving a safe distance away on the couch, as if the redhead could see them. "Do you think she'll go away?"

"I seriously doubt it. I'd better talk to her, it sounds important," she sighed. "I'll take her for a walk. You stay here."

He nodded. "I'll just see you down at lunch, we can meet back up here afterwards," he said.

She smiled. "Okay," and stood up, straightening her clothes as Ginny continued to pound away on the no doubt irritated portrait. "I'm coming, Gin," she called loudly and the banging suddenly ceased. "Bye," she whispered to Draco, kissing him on the cheek and climbing out the portrait hole.

"Hey, Gin," she said once she spotted the younger girl waiting impatiently.

"Hermione, we have to talk. _Now_," she said grabbing Hermione's hand and dragging her wordlessly to the Room of Requirement.

The girl paced three times before opening the door to reveal a small room with two comfortable-looking armchairs and a small fire; perfect for talking. She grabbed Hermione's hand once again and dragged her over to an armchair, pushing her into it and falling into the other herself.

"Okay, Gin. Spill," Hermione said, very confused.

"I don't know how it happened! I mean- I know how it happened, of course. I just- I didn't...I'm not ready for this, Hermione," she said desperately, shaking her head, causing her red hair to fly everywhere.

"Ginny, what are you talking-" Hermione's eyes widened considerably. "Gin, you're not...you can't be..." she took a deep breath. "Ginny, are you pregnant?"

Tears began to stream down her best friend's face and Hermione rushed over to her, wrapping her into a tight hug. "Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Hermione, I'm over a month late. I don't think that's some strange coincidence," she sobbed.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to do the test. I actually know the spell..." Hermione continued.

"_You_?" she questioned. "No offense, Hermione, but I thought you were...I thought you never..."

"I haven't! Last summer, my mom had a bit of a scare and I looked it up for her, that's all. It turned out she wasn't pregnant. Would you like me to do the test or not?" she asked.

"Go ahead. I already know the answer though..." Ginny said.

Hermione took out her wand and pointed it at Ginny's stomach. "Parvulus Expertus," she said clearly. Almost instantly thick words of smoke appeared in the air that read '**Gravida**.'

Ginny looked up at Hermione questioningly and Hermione nodded. Ginny began to sob harder than ever.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked. "Have you talked to Harry? Told him he was going to be a father?"

Ginny shook her head. "I haven't known what to do. I figured that if I just pretended like it didn't exist it would go away, but it hasn't and it won't! I'm not ready, Hermione. I'm only sixteen, for merlin's sake! Harry is going to _war_ in the summer! I can't be pregnant!"

Hermione frowned, knowing her friend was scared. "Ginny, this isn't going to go away. You're going to have to deal with this, starting by telling Harry."

"I know," Ginny nodded. "I'm scared, though. He's going to be mad."

"No, he won't. He knows this is just as much his fault as it is yours. It takes two to tango," Hermione smiled slightly. "Harry's great, Gin. You know that, and you know that you don't need me to assure you. I know this is going to be hard for the two of you, what with the war and all, but you'll get through it, I know you will."

Ginny nodded again. "I hope so, Hermione. I'm guessing I'll be due sometime in September, if my estimations are right. Hopefully the war will be over by then, and this baby can be born into a good world, rather than the screwed up thing it is now."

"Go talk to Harry, Gin. You know he'll make you feel better," she told Ginny.

Ginny nodded and stood up, both of them making their way to the door.

"Oh, and make sure you guys schedule a doctor's appointment. You have to make sure the baby's developing properly," Hermione told her as an afterthought.

Ginny smiled a bit. "We will." She leaned in and hugged Hermione tightly. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Don't mention it."

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Draco loved the moment his last class of the day ended. He especially loved when his last class on a Monday ended. After what felt like the longest day of his life, he walked slowly back to his dormitory, hoping Hermione would already be there to greet him. He loved that he had someone to talk to (and kiss) when he got back from a long day.

He quickly said the password to the -in his opinion- way too cheerful portrait of a witch and crawled through the portrait hole, expecting to see a brightly smiling Hermione waiting for him. Instead, he saw her tiny frame hunched over on their favorite couch, sobs wracking her body.

Draco walked over to her, concerned. "Who died?" he asked when he reached her, attempting at humor. Draco Malfoy had never been good with crying girls, even if that girl was his girlfriend.

This question only seemed to make her bawl harder, and she wordlessly picked a letter up off of the coffee-table in front of her and handed it to him.

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**A/N-So? What did you all think? Slight cliffie there. I thought this chapter was going to be wicked hard after getting them together, but it was surprisingly easy. I hadn't planned for Ginny to be pregnant until I was actually writing the scene, and it seemed like an okay idea. **

**Thanks again to all you amazing people who reviewed on the last chapter, keep it up and the chapters will keep coming!**

**Oh yes, and I'd like to recomend two great stories that I have fallen in love with. Both Draco/Hermione, so don't worry!**

**1.) From Venice with Love- by jamieblye**

**2.) Mr Maybe- by firebirdflame**

**They update frequently and are amazing writers, I hope I can eventually get to where they are.**


	14. An Attempt To Tip The Scales

**A/N- Okay, so I'm not going to say anything up here, except, please please please, promise that you will read the chapter through, even if you would like to kill me for what's going on. It will all explain itself in the end, I promise.**

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-Chapter Fifteen-

Hermione rolled over on her comfortable bed and sighed contently. She knew that she had to get up, so she rose carefully from the bed and almost skipped to the bathroom, her mood great. She walked over to the shower and turned the knob, blasting the hot water so that the room imediately began to fill with steam. She hummed softly to herself as she stripped off her shirt and threw it across the room. She then proceeded to take off the rest of her clothes and stepped carefully into the shower, trying not to slip as she had done at least five times before. She lathered soap on her body, letting the steaming hot water relax the muscles in her back as she began to sing a familiar muggle song.

When she was done she grabbed a fuzzy pink towel from the towel wrack next to her and wrapped it around her tiny frame. Hermione picked another smaller towel and started to towel dry her hair so that it wasn't dripping anymore. She dropped it on the ground when she was done and wrapped the towel around her body more tightly around her. Hermione walked over to the shiny white scale in the corner of the room, stepping on gingerly.

Seventy-nine.

"Good job, Hermione," she whispered to herself, a smiling lighting up her features.

She walked quickly into her room, still humming, and pulled on a tight pair of jeans and a tiny pink T-shirt. She grabbed her wand from her bedside table and muttered a spell to instantly dry her hair straight. Hermione smiled at her reflection, dabbing on a bit of lipgloss. Happy with how she looked, she decided to go find her boyfriend. She jogged to the door of her bedroom, and then down the stairs, jumping the last one. She didn't see her favorite blonde in the common room, so she headed into the kitchen, where she spotted him standing at the counter.

"Hey, babe," Hermione called out to him.

"Hey," Draco said, walking over to her and planting a kiss on her lips. "I just made some breakfast, do you want any?"

"No. Remember, I told you how I was going on a three day fast? I'm down to seventy-nine now, I just need to drop these last nine pounds," she smiled.

He carried his plate over to the table and sat down. "Oh yeah, I remember now," Draco said. "Oh well, more for me, I guess."

Hermione smiled and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down across from him at the small table. "So, I was thinking, since it's a Hogsmeade weekend, we could go together, maybe meet up with Ginny and Harry..."

"No," he said quickly, "I can't. The team has practice today, and I can't miss it."

"Oh, okay," Hermione sighed, her mood dampened slightly. "Well, I guess I could just go with Ginny, then. I'm sure she would love to get out of the castle and away from Harry's overprotective watch."

"No, that's probably not the greatest idea, Hermione. She is pregnant after all. She should stay off her feet," Draco told her sternly, not looking up to meet his girlfriend's eyes. "Why don't you just stay here and study? You might be falling behind."

"Yes, I suppose I should spend some time studying. There will be other Hogsmeade trips," Hermione sighed. "Maybe I could come down and watch a bit of your practice after I get some studying done."

"No!" Draco said, too quickly. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I mean, it will be boring, and I know how much you hate quidditch."

"Not when it's you playing," Hermione smiled.

"You'll be bored. It would be better to spend your time doing something productive," Draco said.

"If you say so," she sighed.

"I do. I should get going, though. Practice starts in twenty minutes." He got up and walked over to Hermione's chair and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll see you when I get back, it probably won't be until late."

"Okay," she said as he walked towards the door. "I love you."

He looked at her for a long moment with a pained expression. "You too, " he said finally.

"Bye."

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Hermione only studied for one hour before she decided that she wasn't in any danger of falling behind, and closed her textbooks. Before she even knew what she was doing, she rose from the kitchen table and walked through the portrait hole, following the familiar path to the Gryffindor common room, so that she could visit Ginny.

"Pig snout," she told the portrait of the Fat Lady, who immediatly admitted her entrance to the large common room.

"Hey, Gin," she called out to the redhead who was seated on the couch. Hermione walked over to her best friend and sat down next to her. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Fine. I'm always fine! I wish everyone would stop asking me that! I've barely begun to show, why wouldn't I be fine? It's only the morning sickness that sucks, but I am _fine!_" the moody girl said.

"Ok-aay. Where's Harry?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Out. He's always out! Training with Ron, or Dumbledore, or 'going for a walk'! He'd do anything to get away from me, I swear!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing her arms up in anger.

"Oh, well I'm sure he's just trying to make sure he's ready to face Voldemort, Gin. It probably has nothing to do with you," Hermione said, putting a hand on the younger girl's knee.

"Well, it should! I'm his bloody fiancée, for Merlin's sake! Shouldn't I be involved?" she shouted.

"He's just trying to keep you safe, Ginny. You may be his fiancée, but you're his _pregnant_ fiancée. He won't let you be put into the line of fire, we both know that, so the sooner you get over it, the better."

"Fine, but I still don't like it," she muttered, casting her eyes down towards her feet. "What will I do if I lose him, Hermione? I can't lose him," Ginny whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"You won't," Hermione said gently, pulling Ginny into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Hermione. I'm sorry if I'm being a bit moody, I guess it comes with the territory. Being pregnant sucks," she declared, pulling away.

"But just think about afterwards, when you're holding it in your arms, and you know that it's _yours_. Yours to love, yours to take care of, yours to teach right and wrong. It'll be worth it, Gin, I know it will," Hermione said softly.

"Maybe, but oh gods, Hermione. It's going to be my responsibility...what if I do something wrong and it turns out to be a druggie or something, acting like a muggle and buying drugs from those...what are they called? What if it turns out to be a squib? What would I _do_?" Ginny gushed desperately, frantically searching Hermione's eyes for answers.

"Well, you would still love it. I know you would. But I highly doubt that Harry Potter's child is going to turn out a squib. I also know that you and Harry will be great parents to it. And finally, I know we have to start calling it something other than 'it'", Hermione laughed.

"Hmm, I think so too. But we can't really, we don't know its gender yet."

"Well, we can pick a name that could be for either gender. Or would could just call it Harry Jr., I'm sure Harry would get a kick out of that."

Ginny laughed. "No way, one Harry is quite enough for me. 'It' is fine until we find out if it's a girl or boy, I suppose."

Hermione frowned. "Okay. Well, what do you want to do? I'm bored out of my skull."

"We could go into Hogsmeade I suppose, I need to get a new quill and something to read, seeing as Harry keeps me off my feet whenever he _is_ here. I'm only a few months along! Shouldn't he be saving this for later on?" she exclaimed.

"He's just being protective. You know Harry... But, yes, Hogsmeade sounds good. Let's go," Hermione said, jumping to her feet and extending a hand to Ginny, to pull her up.

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Hermione and Ginny casually strolled through the streets of Hogsmeade, the warm sun shining down their necks.

"Come on, Hermione. There's a bookstore straight ahead. Gods, you walk even slower than me, and I'm pregnant!" Ginny shouted, grabbing Hermione's tiny hand and dragging her forward. "You have to move faster if we plan on getting there before ten o'clock tonight!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Hermione moaned. All this walking was making her very tired and she was finding it hard to keep her bony body standing.

Finally, they reached the bookstore and Ginny ripped the door open, a bell giving a little 'ting' as the hinge hit it. Ginny immediately strode over to the large section of books that wasn't about spellwork, and picked up a rather heavy paperback, flipping casually through the pages. She tutted and put it back, repeating the process on another novel.

After what felt like hours to Hermione- who had picked out three lengthy books long before- Ginny had finally decided on a book, and they paid at the register.

"Have a great day," the plump witch behing the counter said as they left the small store.

"Where to now?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks for a drink," Hermione suggested, realizing how thirsty she was. She knew she had to be careful to drink lots of fluids when she was on a fast, or she would get dehydrated and pass out.

"All right," the redhead agreed.

The two took a left and walked down a narrow street that led to the Three Broomsticks. They found the small pub quickly and went inside, taking their seats at a small table for two. Ginny glanced around the pub, looking for the waitress so that they could order their drinks, but instead saw a familiar face across the room.

"Hermione, where did you say Draco was going to be today?" she asked, glancing carefully at her best friend.

"Quiditch practice. He said it would probably last until later tonight," Hermione said, looking at Ginny suspiscously. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Come on," Ginny said, standing up quickly. "I'm not so thirsty, we can just get drinks back at the castle. I want to talk to you anyways."

Hermione stared at the younger girl. "We can talk here. What's going on, Gin?" she asked, looking around the room to find the source of her friend's distress.

She found it quickly. It wasn't exactly difficult, as the pub wasn't exactly big. She saw Draco Malfoy -her boyfriend Draco Malfoy- sitting across the room, in a darkened corner, also at a table that sat two. But he was not alone. No, because why _on earth_ would her boyfriend, who happened to be a very handsome boy, be alone at the Three Broomsticks when he was supposed to be at quidditch practice? Well, Hermione didn't have to try to answer this question, because Draco Malfoy was _not _alone. Next to her boyfriend, yes that's right _next to_, at a table meant for two people to sit across from each other, sat a very beautiful blonde. Said blonde was currently laughing at something Hermione's boyfriend had said.

_Maybe it's not what it looks like,_ Hermione thought to herself. _Maybe they're just friends that went out for a drink after quidditch practice_.

Hermione was able to convince herself of this for a moment, and was about to stand up and go join them, when Draco leaned over to the blonde and whispered something in her ear and the girl giggled again. That giggle had to be the most annoying sound Hermione had ever heard. Still having convinced herself that nothing was going on, Hermione got to her feet and began to take a step toward the table, when she stopped in her tracks.

Draco -her _boyfriend_ Draco- had leaned in and began passionately kissing the girl who Hermione was now sure she wanted dead. Shaking with furry, Hermione began to stride over to the table.

"Hermione!" she heard Ginny call out from somewhere behind her, but she paid the girl no attention, her only goal was to get to that table as fast as she could.

She actually surprised herself when she reached it. The two had at least stopped kissing, and Draco had noticed her approaching, immediately jumping out of his seat and rushing towards her.

"Hermione-" he began.

Hermione assumed he would have said more, but he didn't get the chance to before her hand came hurling at his face, making contact loudly.

"You bastard," she snarled, before running out of the pub and onto the street.

Hermione waited outside the pub for what felt like ages, waiting for Draco to come after her. He would, right? Draco would come out to talk to her, to set this right. The more time passed, though, the less she began to believe he would.

"Hermione, right?"

Hermione jumped, and looked around for the person the voice belonged to.

"Blaise Zambini," the boy introduced himself, as he stepped in front of her. "Draco's my best friend, remember?"

"Oh," Hermione said, shaking her head to try to clear her thoughts, "yes, I remember. How are you?"

"I'm alright, just getting some new books. How are you?" the handsome boy asked politely.

Hermione laughed shakily, tears filling her eyes. "I've definitely been better."

"I hope things with you and Draco are all right."

"No, they're not, actually. We're through."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Blaise said, taking a step closer and putting an awkward hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not. The stupid bastard," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"Ughh," Blaise groaned. "What did he do now to deserve such language?"

"I don't want to bore you," Hermione said, frowning.

"It's not easy to bore me. Go ahead, try it."

"Er-"

"You don't have to, I guess. I'm just a good listener, even if I am from Slytherin."

"Fine. He cheated on me," she said simply.

Zambini didn't bat an eyelash. "When?"

"Just now. I just caught him, in there," Hermione motioned to the club behind them. "But who knows how long it's been going on.."

"Is he still in there?" he asked, his facial expression still not changing.

"I think so. He hasn't come out..." Hermione told him.

"I'll be right back," Blaise said, turning towards the pub door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Hermione asked him, following close behind.

"I'll be right back," he repeated. "Stay here."

"No-" she began.

"Stay. Here." Blaise said firmly.

"Fine."

Blaise strode into the pub, the door swinging shut behind him. Hermione couldn't hear much, seeing as she was outside and everyone else was inside, but she did hear a few yells and what sounded like a glass smashing to the floor. Five minutes later, Zambini had finally returned, his right hand looking slighty red.

"Come on," he told Hermione, and began to walk down the street.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, jogging to catch up. He ignored her. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! What did you do?" she insisted.

"Nothing. Let's get you back, you look frozen," Blaise observed. Then, without a moments hesitation, he pulled off the heavy black coat he was wearing and draped it over her shoulders.

Hermione smiled slightly and slid her arms through. "Thanks," she mumbled.

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The two eventually made their way up to the castle, and Blaise walked Hermione to her portrait hole.

"Love conquers," Hermione said to the picture, her voice full of sarcasm. She turned to Blaise. "Do you want to come in?"

The boy stared at her for a moment. "Sure," he finally said.

Hermione nodded and led him into the common room, sitting down on her favorite couch and indicating for Blaise to sit beside her.

"So, I guess I should...thank you?" She asked, staring into the boy's eyes.

"No, you shouldn't. I didn't do anything," Blaise said, staring back.

"Yes, you did...You just won't tell me what it is," Hermione whispered.

"That's because it's not important."

"You guys and your secrets."

Blaise laughed, breaking the stare that connected them. "It's just not a big deal, that's all."

"Whatever you say..."

The couple stared at each other, like they were staring at each other's souls. Before either of them knew what was happening, they were full on making out on the couch they sat on. Hermione leaned back so that they were laying horizontally, pulling Blaise with her and tugging at his shirt to indicate that she wanted it off.

"Hermione..."

Hermione interupted him with a kiss. "Just take it off, Zambini."

He stared into her eyes for one more intense moment, and then pulled his shirt over his head and leaned down again to kiss her. She made the kisses more heated, more passionate, as he began to unbutton her shirt and slide her out of it. Hermione reached down for the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head.

"Your...room?" Blaise asked between kisses.

"It's upstairs, let's go," Hermione said, breathing heavily as she sat up and pulled herself to her feet.

"No need," Blaise said, and scooped her up from where she stood and carried her up the stairs and into her room.

Blaise placed her onto the bed, and placed himself on top of her, again beginning to kiss her. He let his hands wander towards her bra clasp, letting them linger there, gauging Hermione's reaction. When she nodded, he unclasped it, and she slid her arms out.

Hermione felt herself drifting closer and closer to sex with Blaise. This was as far as she and Draco had ever gone, Hermione not ready for more just yet. But as she felt his hands on the button of her jeans, she knew what this was leading to, and knew that she didn't care. She let herself melt into Zambini, her boyfriend's -or was he her ex? They had never offcially broken up- best friend's arms, letting passion take her. She thought with her body, not her mind, or her heart for once. Tonight, Zambini was her escape. Her escape from what had happened with Draco. Her escape from what was going on within herself. Her escape from reality. She welcomed Zambini with open arms.

It was right at the moment when Blaise was slipping off his boxers that Hermione jerked awake, shaking and panting heavily.

"Hermione?" a voice to her left asked woriedly. "Shhh, it's okay, come here."

The person pulled Hermione into their arms, craddling her against their shoulder as if she were a child and began to rock slowly. It was only then that Hermione realized that she was crying. No, not crying, bawling, hard sobs wracking her body as she clung to the person for dear life.

"It was just a dream, it's all right, I've got you," Draco said into her hair.

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**A/N- I know, I didn't answer any of your questions from the last chapter, but I will in the next one. I promise. But, for now, review please! And I'm very sorry about how long the wait was for this horrible chapter. My computer has been broken, so the only time I could work on this was at my sister's house, but then my sister's boyfriend's sister would always be on it so I could only write bits and pieces. I know, no excuse, but there will **_**never**_** be that long of a wait again, I swear. Schools out and Summers here!**

**So, review? I greatly appriciate all of you that did review last chapter. I was surprised by how many did.**


	15. Songs To Love And Die By

-Chapter Fifteen-

_Hermione, _

_There has been an attack. Your father is hurt badly. He is currently in St. Mungo's, and we are awaiting news on his condition. Professor Dumbledore has been by, he said that he will arrange for you to be escorted here sometime tomorrow afternoon. I'm sorry that I can not go into more detail now, darling, but I really must get back to your father. I'm sure that your Headmaster and I can answer all questions you must have tomorrow. I love you, dear. _

_-Mom_

Hermione sat, once again, in her favorite couch in the Head's common room, reading the very vague letter over again. She was still shaken by the dream that she had, but had pushed it out of her mind. It was only hours before that Professor McGonagall had hand delivered this letter to her, along with extending her deepest appologies. This had only made Hermione mad; her father wasn't dead, and he wouldn't die. He _couldn't_ die. Draco, who had just calmed her down five minutes ago, was in the kitchen making her a cup of tea, leaving her alone to sulk, the occasional tear dripping down her cheek.

"I hope Green's okay, we didn't have any Jasmine," the blonde said as he entered the room.

Hermione stared at him blankly. What on earth was this boy talking about?

"Your tea," Draco reminded her, handing her a steaming cup.

"Oh," Hermione heard herself whisper. "Right." She took a small sip, the hot liquid burning the inside of her mouth.

"You okay?" he asked, looking her dead in the eye.

She glared at him for a moment, before ripping her eyes away and looking back at the letter.

"Right. Stupid question," Draco muttered."Well, it says that you won't be able to go until this afternoon, and right now it's...two a.m."

"Great."

"I just mean, what do you want to do to kill time? You could go back to sleep, you look dead on your feet..."

Hermione was suddenly hit with the realization of how true his words were, but she did not want to go back to sleep and end up having another nightmare. "I don't know."

Draco sighed. "I think it's probably best for you to go back to bed, Hermione."

"I guess so," Hermione nodded stiffly, stretching her arms out in front of her and struggling to get up in her exhausted state.

"Come on, I'll walk you up," Draco said, standing beside her.

They walked up the long staircase in silence, glancing awkwardly at each other. When they had reached Hermione's room, Draco walked in and Hermione layed in the bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

Draco walked over to her side and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, love," he whispered.

A ghost of a smile lit Hermione's features. "I like that," she told him.

"You like what?" Draco asked, his eyebrows narrowing in confusion.

"You called me love. I like it."

"Oh. Well, good." He placed another short kiss on her lips. "Well then, _love_, sleep well." He turned to leave.

"Draco?" Hermione said so softly that the boy almost didn't catch it.

"Yes?" He asked, turning again to face her.

"Could you- could you stay with me tonight?" she pleaded, her face glowing with hurt innocence.

Draco seemed thoughtful for a second, annalyzing the situation. "Okay," he finally said, and crawled carefully into the bed next to her, wrapping his large arms around her tiny frame.

"Goodnight, Draco," Hermione whispered, as she finally gave into the sleep that was tugging at her senses.

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Hermione woke with a start, momentarily wondering who the hell's arms were around her. She rolled over and looked at Draco's handsome face, angelic looking in sleep. She then turned to look at the clock, and had to do a double take. One o'clock. One o'clock in the afternoon.

"Draco," she said frantically. She shook him roughly. "Draco, wake up!"

Suddenly, the young boy jolted awake. "What is it, Hermione?" he asked, rubbing his eyes in a hopeless attempt to get the sleep out of them.

"It's one o'clock!" Hermione shouted at him, as if he should have already known.

He stared at her blankly, he knew that he should know what she meant by this, but it wasn't coming. He had been up all night watching her, making sure she was okay, and was still exhausted from the little sleep he had managed to get.

"My father!" she screamed at him, outraged. How on _earth_ could he have forgotten? Was he really that _dense_?

"Oh, right, right. I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm just dead tired," Draco said, knowing this was really no appology. How could he have not remembered? He had been up half the night trying to calm her down. "Let's go to Professor McGonagall, maybe she can take you."

"Me?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"Well...yes. Who else?" Draco questioned, returning her confused look.

"Er- I just thought, maybe..."

"Hermione?"

"I thought you might come with me."

Draco smiled lightly. "Do you _want_ me to?"

"Yes," Hermione said shyly, looking down at her feet.

"All right then, I will. I just thought you may want to be alone with your mother."

"I don't want to be alone with her. If it's just me and her, we will both fall to pieces. But, if you come, then maybe we can hold it together," Hermione whispered. "She still hasn't met you, either."

"Well, I highly doubt these are the circumstances under which she would like to meet me, but I will come." Draco stared deeply into her eyes for a minute. "You don't have to hold it together, you know. It's perfectly normal to fall appart."

Hermione nodded. "Well, let's go to McGonagall," she said, grabbing a pair of shoes and sliding them onto her feet.

Draco followed her out of her room, pondering how they had slept together the previous night. He had never actually _slept_ in the same bed as a girl. Sure, he'd had sex before. Many times, actually. But, it was always just a hit-and-go type of thing. He'd never felt anything towards a girl as he was feeling towards Hermione. He just may love her.

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Hermione slammed her fist into her transfiguration professor's door three times, and waited for a response. She waited for two minutes, and there was still nothing.

"Professor!" she yelled. "Professor McGonagall?"

"I don't think she's in there, Hermione," Draco told her softly.

Hermione rounded on him. "Then where would she be, if you know everything?" she yelled.

"Love, calm down. I know this is hard, but we're going to get through it. We're going to get you to St. Mungo's," he told her in a calm, even voice.

Her expression visually softened. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just-"

"I know," Draco said, taking her hand. "Look." He pointed down the hall to where Professor McGonagall was hurrying towards them.

"I thought I heard someone yelling for me," she said as she reached them.

"I'm sorry, professor," Hermione began, "I was just hoping that you could take me to St. Mungo's so that I could see my father."

"I suppose we must have missed each other, Miss Granger. I am just returning from your dormitory, I had went to get you. We can go now, we will be flooing," McGonagall said, opening the door to her office. "Mr. Malfoy, I assume you will be accompanying Miss Granger, am I correct?"

"Yes," Draco said, nodding stiffly.

"Very well," she said. She walked across the room to where a bucket sat on a stool, and hurried Draco into the fireplace. "You first then, Mr. Malfoy."

"All right," Draco said, extending his hand to take a fistful of the dark powder. "St. Mungo's!" he yelled, and was whirled away.

"Now you, Miss Granger," the professor said in a kind voice, as if she expected Hermione to burst into tears at any moment.

Hermione nodded and stepped into the fireplace, taking her own handful of floo powder. "St. Mungo's!"

Hermione stepped dizzily out of one of the many fireplaces in St. Mungo's hospital. She glanced around quickly for Draco, so that they could proceed to find her mother. She saw him, brushing off his robes at the gate next to her.

"Draco," she called to get his attention as McGonagall stepped out of the fire behind her, brushing soot from her robes.

He spun around and spotted her. "You ready?" he asked.

"As I'll ever be," she responded.

McGonagall nodded tersely and she led them down a long, winding hall that seemed to go on forever. Eventually, Hermione spotted her mother sitting in one of the stiff waiting room chairs and ran over to her. Mrs. Granger spotted her daughter before Hermione had reached her, and stood to meet her, her arms wrapping around Hermione's small frame tightly.

"Mum, how is he?" Hermione asked as she pulled out of the hug and stared her mother in the eye.

Her mother glanced down at the ugly blue rug they stood on. "He's not good, Hermione, not good at all," she whispered.

Tears filled Hermione's eyes, but she looked to Draco and blinked them back, refusing to let them spill. "What happened?" she asked.

"It all happened so quickly," her mother shook her head, "one minute we were drinking tea and watching the telly, the next, there are three men in dark cloaks and masks bursting through the door and coming towards us with their wands drawn. Your father got hit by their curses, he was defending me. One knocked him back against the wall and he lay still, covered in blood," she brought a hand over her eyes and shook her head again, as if it was physically painful to relive the memory. "Then, there were Order members surrounding them, and I don't remember what happened after that."

"They were brought to the Ministry," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Their in Azkaban now."

Hermione's mother nodded quickly, although this news didn't seem to bring her much peace. "He looked so bad, there was so much blood," she whispered.

"Oh, mum," Hermione muttered, wrapping her in another hug.

"They say they're not sure what will happen to him...if he'll- if he'll, be able to survive it."

Professor McGonagall put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Your father fought bravely, and did everything he possibly could to ensure your mother's safety, the price for this, however, was great. He sustained various injury's to his head, and there was much dark magic that came into play, dark magic that even the healers can't figure out how to stop. Your father is a very brave man, Miss Granger, you should be extremely proud of him.

"I am," Hermione nodded. "But what did they want with him? Why him, why my parents?"

McGonagall frowned sadly. "We can only guess that they were hoping that if they were able to capture your parents, then Mr. Potter would come running."

Hermione shook her head, "They seem to know him too well. Although, he wouldn't go for them, I wouldn't let him. Vo- Voldemort would want to keep them alive, we'd find another way to free them. This war is too important, too much depends on Harry for him to be going on adventures to free people."

Hermione's mother nodded, looking deep in thought. Suddenly, she appeared to have noticed Draco standing off to the side for the first time. "And who is this?" she asked politely.

"Oh," said Hermione. She walked over and grabbed Draco's hand, pulling him closer to where she and her mother were talking. "This is my...boyfriend, Draco Malfoy." The word boyfriend felt strange and distant as it slipped off her tongue.

Draco stuck out his hand to her. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Granger. I'm sorry it could not be under better circumstances," he said, playing the perfect gentleman.

"Please, please, call me Jane," Hermione's mother said, looking delighted at the news. "It's good to finally hear some good news."

Hermione smiled at Draco, happy that her mother took it so well, although, she wasn't expecting her to take it badly. It was her dad she was worried about, but it didn't seem as though he'd be saying much today. "Can we see dad?" she asked her mother.

"No. We're only allowed in for 30 minutes every two hours, and I'm afraid I just came out. I'm sorry Sweetie."

"It's alright," Hermione said, looking disappointed "I can wait."

Draco turned to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

She looked at him quizically. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, let's go for a walk." He nodded and followed her down the hall.

"I believe I know what you want to ask me," McGonagall said.

"You do?"

"You want to know if your father was one of the Death Eaters that attacked Miss Granger's house." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Draco admitted.

"No, Mr. Malfoy, your father was not among the group," McGonagall said flatly.

Draco felt as though a ten ton weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Thank you, professor."

McGonagall nodded and they walked back to where Hermione and her mother were seated. Draco took the seat next to his brunette girlfriend and draped an arm around her shoulders.

He kissed the top of her head. "How are you two holding up?"

"Fine," Hermione whispered, a sad smile tryed to break through, but didn't quite make it.

Draco pulled her head to his shoulder, stroking her hair gently. Hermione looked up just as a healer approached the group.

"Mrs. Granger?" he addressed Hermione's mother.

"Yes?" she asked.

"If you and your family could just follow me, we have some news to discuss with you concerning your husband," he said evenly.

Hermione's mother raised her eyebrows, but stood to follow. Draco and Hermione got to their feet as well, and the three followed the healer down a long hallway until they reached a small room. The doctor indicated with a hand gesture that they should enter, and Hermione's mother did, but Hermione stood stalk still in the doorway, reading the plate next to the room that read 'Quiet Room.'

"Hermione?" Draco asked, looking at her questioningly.

"I don't want to go in there," she whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "No, this isn't happening, not to him."

Draco followed her eyes to the sign by the door, instantly he walked over to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. "I know this is hard, Hermione. But you have to go in there. You have to go be with your mother, because she needs you. You both are going to need to lean on each other for a bit," he whispered in her ear. "And if you need to lean on me too, I'll be here for you."

"You swear?" she asked, her words muffled as they were angled to his shirt.

"Hermione Granger, I will _always_ be there for you. We could break up, and go our separate ways, and if I saw you ten years down the line, miserable, I would still be there. You know why?" he asked.

She pulled her face away from his chest and looked up into his grey eyes. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he said, for the first time. "You are the first girl I have ever said this to, and I hope to god that you are the last, because I love you Hermione, I've fallen in love with you."

The tears Hermione had so desperately been trying to hold back spilled over and ran down her face. "I love you too," she said, before covering his lips with her own.

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**A/N- I know. I know. It's been forever since my last update. Two months, I think. I swear to god it will never be that long again. I could throw a million excuses at you such as (my computer has been broken, I was at camp, I've been out of control busy) all of which are true, but the fact still remains that I had many chances to write and I didn't. A lot of it I blame on writer's block (it was terrible) but still, I take full responsibility. I'm also sorry that it is kind of short, compaired to some of my more recent chapters, but this is the normal length of one of my chapters, before you were just being treated I hope you all continue to review as you were before, because it was great to see what you thought of this. So please guys, review!**


	16. When It Isn't Like It Should Be

-Chapter Sixteen-

Hermione and Draco walked into the Quiet Room hand in hand, and sat in the two uncomfortable looking seats that were left. Hermione withdrew her hand from her fair haired boyfriend and replaced it with her mom's, squeezing it gently to assure her that she was there. The healer stood, looking at them gravely and Hermione felt she knew the news before he said it.

"There was a- a change in your husband's condition Mrs. Granger," he said to her mother.

Hermione's mother pursed her lips and looked up at the ceiling. "What kind of change?"

"I'm terribly sorry, we did everything we could," the healer said, and looked as if he was going to go on, but was interrupted by a sob cutting through the air.

Hermione was on her feet immediately and wrapped her arms around her mother's shaking frame, barely registering her own tears free-falling down her face.

"I'll give you a few minutes to compose yourselves," said the healer. "There is some paperwork to fill out and you have to-" he was cut short by Draco's glare. "Nevermind, you can do that later. I'm sorry for your loss."

The healer let himself out of the room as Hermione's mother continued to cry loudly. Hermione pulled her mother close to her, letting her own sobs break through.

"We're going to get through this, mom, we will," she whispered through her sobs.

Her mother nodded against her daughter's shoulder, and stepped back, still crying uncontrollably, but seeming to have gathered a fair ammount of control. She walked across the room, where a box of tissues rested on the windowsill and sank back into her chair, taking the box with her.

Hermione looked across the room to Draco helplessly shaking her head, at a loss for words. He locked eyes with her and swiftly took the five steps that brought him within inches of the brunette.

"About what you said earlier," she said, "does it still stand?"

"Does what still stand?" Draco asked, confusion clouding his eyes.

"That it's okay to fall apart."

"Of course it does."

"Good, because I think I might be falling apart," she muttered, before throwing her arms around him and crying harder than she knew was possible.

Man was she getting sick of tears.

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The next few days passed in a blur for Hermione. She could vaguely remember Dumbledore excusing her from classes for the following week- not that it really mattered, she was at least a month ahead in each subject anyway. She could also recall not wanting to go home for that week as Dumbledore had suggested, not able to bear returning to that house just yet, and instead spending her days in bed until Draco would return from class and bring her downstairs, where they would lay on the couch for hours on end, staring into the fire.

It was now Friday, three days after The Incident. Hermione was still not able to speak of what had happened to her father, leaving Harry, Ginny, and Ron in the dark. They would knock on the portrait hole every afternoon after classes let out, and every afternoon Draco would ask if she was ready to talk to them, and every afternoon Hermione would respond with a shake of her head.

Hermione glanced over at the small clock that sat on the nightstand next to her bed. It read five o'clock. She heaved a sigh and swung her feet over the side of the bed, sitting up shakily. She knew that Draco would be back in a matter of minutes, he never ate in the Great Hall anymore. She got to her feet slowly, putting one hand to the dresser to make sure she was stable enough to stand. The only things she had eaten in the past three days were small snacks that Draco made her consume, and she knew he thought she at least got out of bed to get food during the day. He was dead wrong.

She shuffled out of her room, and then quickened her pace at the top of the stairs when she heard the portrait hole swing open.

"Hey," Draco called up to her from the foot of the stairs. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione shrugged and made her way over to the couch, letting her exhausted body fall into it.

Draco dropped his bag by the armchair and then let himself too sink into the soft couch, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulling her to his chest. "Have you eaten dinner?" he asked.

Hermione looked up at him and contemplated her answer, if she said yes she would be lying to him, _again_, but if she said no, then he would force her to eat something that she was sure should would have to throw up later. Deciding to not put herself through the extra work she nodded, "Yes, I had a bowl of soup just fifteen minutes ago."

"Good," Draco muttered absently, and Hermione heard his stomach let out a loud growl.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Not unbearably. I can sit here with you for a bit first," he said smiling slightly down at her and kissing the top of her head.

"You should eat," she said coldly. One of them had to.

Draco looked at her strangely for a moment, questioning her cool tone, but shrugged it off and gently slipped out from under her. "I'll be right back," he said, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Hermione let her gaze linger where he just stood. Something wasn't right with Draco and her, and she knew it. He wasn't the same. Ever since her father had- well, ever since The Incident, he had been almost too sweet. He wasn't the boy she fell in love with. Of course she didn't want him to be mean, but a little bit of that Malfoy temper would be nice to see every once in a while. Hell, even him yelling at her to eat would have been a good change, but no, it was always 'let's sit on the couch and snuggle.' Not his exact words, of course, but they might as well have been.

And another thing, what was he even doing with her in the first place? Every time she looked at him she wondered why he stuck around, why he didn't chase after some skinny, pretty, blonde girl. She questioned why he stayed with someone plain and chubby. She also knew that she had a lot of, oh what was that muggle term that boys used to describe a girl with too many issues? Oh yes, baggage, What with her father dying, and her continusly withdrawing from her friends and family, she knew that she had a lot of baggage.

All Hermione knew was that it wasn't working. Whether it was her or Draco, she wasn't sure, but something had to change, and _soon._

"Are you sure you ate a bowl of soup for dinner?" Draco asked as he walked back into the common room, carefully carrying a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. He set down his meal on the coffee table before turning to look at Hermione. "Because I could have sworn there were only three cans left in there before I left this morning, and there are still three in there now."

"You must have counted wrong," Hermione lied easily.

"I really don't think I did, Hermione," Draco said, looking at her with worry.

"You had to have. You never were that bright..." she muttered back at him.

Draco shook his head, but didn't answer. Hermione glared at him, obviously disappointed. She had thought that she may get some sort of flare out of him. He sat down a foot or so away from her and began to eat his own soup.

"I'm going up to bed now, I'm tired," Hermione said, getting up and heading towards the stairs.

Draco looked surprised. "All right, I'll be up in a few," he said to her retreating form that was already at the top of the stairs, hand resting on her doorknob.

"Don't bother," she told him, opening the door and stepping inside. She slammed it closed.

Draco stared at the door for a long moment, something wasn't right.

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The next morning, Hermione woke with a start to someone gently shaking her.

"Hermione?" said the familiar voice. "Love, we have to get ready for your father's wake."

Her mind took a minute to register what the voice was telling her, but when she finally did realize what it was saying, she jumped awake. "What time is it?" she asked Draco.

"It's almost nine o'clock. We have to be at the funeral home at ten."

"Shit. Why didn't you wake me earlier?" she demanded.

"Because, yesterday morning you specifically told me that you were to be awakened at quarter of nine, and any earlier you would make sure that I never saw the light of day again," Draco said, looking at her as if she had lost her mind, which, she probably had.

"Why on earth would I say that?! I wanted to take a long bath, and then take my time to get ready!"

"Hermione, love, calm down. You still have time, if you get moving now," said Draco gently.

Hermione glared at him for a moment, before realizing that she was, in fact, wasting time. She quickly got out of bed and ran into her bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Draco winced, she was always slamming doors.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Hermione was shaking with anger as she struggled to turn the knobs of the giant bathtub. "I know that I told him to wake me up at eight, not nine!" she muttered to herself. "Stupid git needs to get his hearing checked."

She slowly eased herself into the steaming hot water, enjoying the way it felt on her aching limbs. She sighed, and again cursed Draco for waking her up so late that she didn't really have time to enjoy it. Hermione swam two laps around the pool-sized tub and then came to a stop in front of her various shampoos and conditioners. She carefully selected the ones that would tame her hair best, and quickly applied it, rinsing it out after a few minutes. She wondered briefly what time it was, but knew that she must have already spent too much time enjoying her bath, and climbed out, wrapped a small pink towel around herself and went back into her bedroom, very surprised to see Draco still sitting on her bed.

Hermione heard his sharp intake of breath as he saw her bony frame, only covered by the piece of cloth that was carelessly wrapped around her. She knew he had no idea that this was how she looked, as she hadn't allowed him to really touch her intimately since The Incident, and all she was ever caught in were really baggy sweats or nightshirts that she was sure hid everything.

"Hermione," he whispered.

"Get. Out." Hermione said firmly.

Draco shook his head slowly, "Hermione...look at yourself. I don't think I can- I think we need to get you help," he told her, his eyes still staring in disbelief at her bony body.

"Look at myself?!" she asked incredulously. "Why would I _want_ to? I'm fat, I'm huge, I'm absolutely _disgusting_. I'm not good enough for you, I'm not good enough for anyone! I can't stand the sight of myself!" she screamed, grabbing one of her high-healed black shoes that was lying by her feet. She whipped it at the mirror that hung against the wall, not three feet away. The glass flew across the floor with a sickening smash.

Draco ran over to her shaking form, wrapping her in his arms around her frame and pulling her towards him. "Hermione, the saddest part is that you can't even see how wrong you are," he whispered into her hair.

Hermione shook her head, she knew that he was only saying this to make her feel better. She pulled out of his embrace, still shaking, not from fury but from how cold she was. "I need to get dressed. We have to be there in twenty minutes," she told him.

Draco stared at her for a minute, trying to figure out what to do. "Okay, but this isn't over, Hermione. We're going to talk about this when we get back, and I'm going to talk to your mother today. She deserves to know what's going on."

"Don't you _dare_," Hermione yelled at him, her temper returning with a vengeance. "There is nothing wrong with me!"

"Yes, there is, love. And you are going to get help," Draco said in a steady tone.

"I'm not going to get help for something that doesn't exist, Draco," she said, "there is no point in that."

"Hermione, I love you, which is why I will make you get help if you don't cooperate," he said firmly, and then in a less harsh tone, "I won't lose you, I refuse to."

"Get out, I have to get ready."

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Draco looked at his watch again. It read the same time it had the last two times he had compulsively checked it, ten thirty-four. What was Hermione doing?

"Hermione?" he called tentively up the stairs. "Hermione, we're a half hour late..." He listened carefully, but there was no response. Sighing, he began to slowly tread up the stairs. This wasn't going to go well.

"Hermione?" he asked again, as he knocked on the door.

Silence.

"Hermione, I'm coming in," Draco said, opening the door.

He stepped into the room, preparing to be screamed at, but only silence met his ears. He spotted her on the bed, hands in her lap, staring at the cracked mirror. Hermione looked painfully beautiful, her hair up in a messy bun with a few curly pieces falling into her face, she wore no visible make-up, and in Draco's opinion, she didn't need it. She had put on a simple black skirt that went a little below her knees, a black button-up blouse that he had never seen before, and the shoes that must have been recovered from the pile of glass that was now Hermione's mirror.

Her hair, clothes, and make-up was immaculate, her physical state, however, was not. Hermione's cheeks were sunken in, and her eyes looked dull, like the light was on but nobody was home. Her collar-bone jut out too sharply, her arms looked like toothpicks, and all of her skin was a pasty color that anyone could tell wasn't healthy.

Draco cursed himself for what felt like the hundredth time in the past half hour for not noticing what was going on before now. How on earth could he have been so oblivious?

"Hermione? Are you okay?" he asked carefully.

Hermione's dead eyes snapped to him and she stared at him for a second, and it looked as though she was trying to place who he was. "No," she whispered finally. She willed herself not to cry, she hadn't cried since the afternoon in the hospital when- well, she hadn't cried in days, and she was not about to start again.

Draco walked over to her and sat carefully on the bed, only inches from her. He slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, not sure of what her reaction would be. He wasn't exactly high on her list right now.

Hermione looked him in the eye for minute, and then shrugged off his arm, moving a few inches down the bed. She considered just sitting there for the rest of the day, or taking off the stupid heals she was wearing that were bound to kill her feet, and hiding herself under her blanket. The latter seemed rather childish, and she knew that people were expecting her at the wake, so she got up carefully, rather unsteady on the shoes.

"Let's go," she called behind her as she passed through the doorway.

"I'm right behind you," Draco muttered.

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Hermione wandered around her childhood home, completely bored out of her skull, and attempting to put as much distance between her and her bawling relatives as she possibly could. The wake had gone quickly enough, though they did arrive late, and afterwards Hermione's entire family went back to her house for food. But, one more tearful hug (on their part, not Hermione's) and she was sure that she would be ripping chunks of her hair out. She looked absently at the collage of her father to her left as she continued to walk forwards, almost running over her boyfriend. _"If you could even call him that,"_ she thought to herself.

"Sorry," she mumbled, and immediately walked back into the crowded living room, not wanting to be alone with Draco in case of another argument.

"Hermione," he called after her. It was only then that she noticed what he was carrying. A full plate of food. "I got this for you. All your favorites."

Hermione glared at him with as much hatred as she could muster. "No, thank you. I'm not very hungry right now, maybe later," she said through clenched teeth.

"No, I think now is a good time," Draco said stubbornly.

"Draco, I said I'm not hungry right now," she whispered dangerously, not wanting to attract any attention.

"I think you are," he challenged. "I think you're just itching to devour every morsel on this plate."

"Then think again."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Hermione's Aunt Rema stepping in front of him.

"Sorry to interrupt. But, Hermione, dear, I think we may need your help," she said, her eyes wide.

"With what?" Hermione asked, somewhat rudely.

"It's your mother. I think you should probably take her upstairs for a bit of a lie down."

"Why?"

"She's exhausted, dear. I don't think she's getting any sleep at night, and I believe today may have made her go into histerics," Hermione's aunt said sadly, nodding with her head towards the dining room, where Hermione assumed her mom must have been, falling apart.

Hermione nodded tersely, directed one last lingering look at Draco, who nodded for her to go help her mother, and walked swiftly into the living room. It wasn't hard to find her mother, even though there were at least twenty people in the rather small room, she was the one the horrible screeching noises were coming from. Hermione gasped quietly and hurried over to her.

"Mum," she said to get her attention. "Mum, come on." Hermione grabbed her usually composed mother's elbow and tried to lead her out of the room, but the lady was being rather stubborn on staying put. "Mum, let's go. Let's go upstairs and lay down."

"I don't want to lay down!" Her mother sobbed.

Hermione wondered what on earth she was supposed to do, when suddenly Draco was on her mother's other side, also holding her elbow.

"Come on, Mrs. Granger," Hermione heard him whisper. "Let's go upstairs and clean you up, okay?"

Her mother seemed to consider the boys words, and then nodded.

Hermione allowed Draco to help her get her mother to the stairs before saying, "I've got it from here."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked her gently. "Do you want me to at least help you get her up the stairs?"

"I said I've got it," Hermione said harshly. "Stop putting your nose in places it doesn't belong, Draco. Just get away from her, get away from me and _stay_ away from me. I can't deal with your petty concerns anymore, I just can't. This isn't working, we aren't working. I don't know why I ever let it begin in the first place, it was a bad idea."

"Hermione, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do. I really, really do. Just go back to Hogwarts, Draco. We can talk about this more when I get there," Hermione said, glad that her mother was too busy sobbing to pay any attention to what her daughter was doing.

"If that's what you want," Draco said, feeling like she had torn his heart out.

"It is," she said, turning around and helping her mother up the stairs.

Draco watched her carefully, to make sure she was able to make it up the full set of stairs, before turning on his heal and going into the empty drawing room, so that he could floo back to Hogwarts. With one last look around the room, he had vanished in a cloud of ash.

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Hermione carefully shut the door of her mother's bedroom, not wanting to wake her up. She leaned back against the door, rubbing her temples and willing her dizziness to go away. She walked into her bathroom and dry swallowed two aspirins, hoping they would help her headache, before beginning to make her way down the stairs. But, on the second one, she knew that something wasn't right.

Hermione put a hand to her head and gripped the railing on her left so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her chest was constricting so tightly that she felt as though she couldn't breathe. She felt the room of people she was looking down on spin. The last sound she heard was someone's scream, before blinding pain engulfed her and all she saw was black.

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**A/N- Don't kill me, don't kill me. Hermione's bitchiness to Draco is just because of her lack of food. If you have anorexia, you experience major mood swings. She also sees him as a threat, because he wants her to get help and is trying to make her eat, two things Hermione doesn't want to and doesn't think she has to do. **

**Please leave reviews, they make my day **


	17. You Gotta Go There To Come Back

**A/N- Sorry it took a little bit, but it didn't take as long as some of the others. This one's sorta short and boring, sorry.**

-Chapter Seventeen-

Draco stepped out of the fireplace in the Head's common room, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair out of his eyes. He had never felt the way he was feeling just then in his life. He felt as though someone (well, Hermione) had ripped out his heart, thrown it on the floor, and proceeded to jump up and down on it until it was lifeless. He wasn't crying, oh no, Malfoys did _not _cry, especially because of girls, but that doesn't mean he didn't want to.

He fell onto the couch and held his head in his hands. Draco knew that someone had to get Hermione help, and that person had to act fast. He would be that person, if Hermione would let him, but somehow he doubted that she would. He knew that he was going to have to find a way to speak with her mother and tell her what was going on, so that she could do something. He regretted this, however, because Draco could tell that the woman was hanging by a thread, and the smallest thing could push her over the edge. He was pretty sure that this would be it.

The boy looked across the room at the clock that hung on the wall. It read five o'clock. Draco sighed heavily and got up, he might as well go eat dinner in the Great Hall. He warily walked down the halls, hoping not to run into Pansy or anyone else that would want to talk to him, he wasn't in the mood for talking. But, as he was just about to reach the giant doors that would lead him to tables full of mouthwatering food, he heard a voice call out from behind him.

"Malfoy!" it shouted loudly.

The blonde whipped around and saw Weasley and Potter striding quickly towards him. He was definitely not in the mood for talking to these two.

"What do you want, Weasel?" he asked half-heartedly. Even he could tell that his voice was lacking it's usual taunting tone.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked, glaring at him as if he was personally holding her hostage.

"How should I know?" he asked, rolling his eyes, letting his voice take on a lifeless tone.

"You share a dormitory with her, do you not, Malfoy?" Potter asked, staring at him like he was a mental patient.

"Yeah, I do. But, that does not mean I have a tracking device on the Mud-" he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "I don't know where she is, all right? Go get back to whatever you were doing and leave me the bloody hell alone."

The two Gryffindors shared strange looks at Malfoy's behavior, something wasn't right. They didn't have time to question him, however, because Professor McGonagall was walking at a fast pace towards them.

"Mr. Malfoy!" she called out, and Draco ran to her, knowing that the news she must have had could only be concerning one pereson, and with his luck, it was probablly not good. Harry and Ron were right behind him. "Miss Granger is in St. Mungo's," she told Draco, barely registering that two members of her own house were right next to him.

Draco blinked rapidly, trying to understand what was going on. "St. Mungo's?" he asked in a choked voice. "Why, what happened?"

The professor glanced at him, her eyes full of pity. "There was an accident," was all she said. "I think it would be best if you come with me."

Draco immediately felt what was left of his heart stop. He didn't recognize his own voice as it agreed, and he could hear the voices of Potter and his sidekick, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Mr. Malfoy!" it exclaimed, as if it had been calling his name for a long time. "You may go to my office and floo to St. Mungo's, I have to speak with Dumbledore. She's in room 216."

Draco didn't respond, but took off down the hall as fast as his legs would allow him.

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Draco walked down the halls of the wizarding hospital quickly, but not as quickly as to be scolded for running in a hospital.

"214...215...216!" he muttered to himself. He stared at the wooden door that stood between him and the girl he loved. He wasn't sure if Hermione would want to see him, but he knew that whether she wanted him there or not, he was going to be there.

Draco knocked gently on the door, before letting himself in. His eyes swept over the scene in front of him. Hermione's mother was asleep on a stiff armchair roughly six feet away from her daughter's bed. Hermione's aunt that Draco met at the wake was standing next to the armchair, gazing out of the window. He kept his eyes determinedly away from the bed that held the only person he wanted to see, not sure if he was ready yet. Instead, he cleared his throat loudly so that the older woman was aware of his presence.

She blinked once, and then turned around to face Draco. "Hello," she said staring at him questioningly. "I'm sorry, are you a friend of Hermione's?"

Draco stared at her for a moment, not sure how he was supposed to respond to this question. Was he her friend? "Er-"

"Oh!" Aunt Rema suddenly exclaimed. "You must be Draco, right?"

Draco smiled, at least this was a question he could answer. "Yes."

"Jane told me to expect you, before she passed out that is," she said with a hint of a sad smile. "Hermione's boyfriend, eh? I was beginning to think she would never be able get one."

Draco stared incredulously at the woman in front of him. Did she just take a dig at a teenager that was currently laying in a hospital bed? "Many guys from school have been interested in Hermione." Draco defended. "She has always been concentrating on more important things, like her studies, to have time for a boyfriend. I think she's brilliant to be so devoted, she will make it somewhere in life."

"Well, I'm guessing you swooped in and changed all that?" Aunt Rema asked.

"No, she is still focussed on her studies, I would never want her grades to suffer because of us. But, in light of recent events," Draco gestured to the hospital room, "I'm not sure how it will effect her. "

Hermione's aunt 'tisked' under her breath. "She's strong, I think _she'll_ be fine, it's her mother that I'm worried about. She's falling appart."

"Yes, I am sorry that Mrs. Granger has to go through all of this, it must be extremely difficult, and Hermione's problems can't be helping," Draco said.

"Hermione's _problems_? What problems? She just had a bout of dizziness is all, or at least that's what she told us when she woke up ten minutes ago."

"A bout of dizziness?!" Draco shouted. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Have you spoken to a healer yet?"

"No, one was in when she first arrived, but he left and said he'd be back shortly. You know how they are, they just _love_ to keep you waiting," Aunt Rema said, looking very unconcerned.

Draco chose not to enlighten the woman on Hermione's condition, as he would rather the healer do it. He decided that he was going to have to look at Hermione eventually, and he could not stand to talk to her aunt for another moment, so he should just do it now. He took a deep breath and turned around, looking at the impossibly small teenage girl on the bed.

She looked like death as her curly brown hair fell against the white pillow that her head rested on. She was breathing in and out soundly, probably in a dreamless sleep. There was a tube that went through her nose that confused him, he had never seen anything like it. It broke Draco's heart to see her laying in that hospital bed, looking so weak and helpless.

He walked across the room to her and leaned down and kissed her forehead. There was another seat, right next to her bed and he took it, gently lacing his fingers through hers.

"So, she's already woken up?" he asked Aunt Rema, trying to make conversation and find out information at the same time.

"Yes, only for a few minutes, though. She seemed quite tired, so I let her sleep," she sounded quite proud of herself.

There was a knock on the door, and Draco was relieved because at least now he wouldn't have to talk to the woman he was stuck with.

"Come in," she called.

A tall man with glasses, whom Draco assumed was a healer, strode into the room. "Good evening," he greeted them. "I'm Healer Donovan."

Draco nodded at the healer, and searched his face, hoping that he wouldn't be carrying bad news.

"So," he began, "it seems Hermione here suffered from a minor panic attack, which is quite understandable due to all the stress she has been put through combined with the lack of nourishment her body has been getting. She also got quite a concussion, from hitting her head as she fell down the stairs. We have been researching Hermione's symptoms and it seems that she has developed a muggle disease, called anorexia nervosa."

Aunt Rema gasped and Draco looked down at his feet, he already knew this. "What are you going to do for her?" he asked.

"Well, we have never really dealt with a case like Hermione's. She is a muggleborn, right?" Draco nodded. "Yes, so she must know at least a bit about this condition, and in some part of her mind must know she has it. But, our research told us that most teenagers with anorexia won't admit that anything is wrong, even to themselves."

"That sounds like Hermione," said Draco.

"Hermione is attending Hogwarts, correct?" Healer Donovan asked.

"Yes," responded Draco.

"And you are her...what? Friend? Boyfriend? Brother?"

"Er, her boyfriend, I guess."

"So you spend a great deal of time with Miss Granger?"

"Yes, we share a dormitory."

"And have you noticed anything strange going on with her? Different eating habits? Different moods?"

"Well," began Draco, "for quite a while she has been fooling her friends and I, telling me that she was eating in the Great Hall with them, and telling them that she was eating in our kitchens with me. When I discovered this I confronted her, but she told me nothing was wrong. Eventually she began to eat in my presence again, but then her dad..."

"And she hasn't been eating since?" the healer prodded.

"I don't think so, no."

The older man nodded, seeming deep in thought. "Yes, these are tricks of an anorexic, lying and hiding the truth. So, what we are going to do is send her to a muggle psychologist who has dealt with these sort of things before. She will have to go to a muggle nutritionist as well, who will help her plan her meals. This will probably affect her schoolwork, considering she is going to have to miss classes frequently. But, if her teachers are willing to help, and Hermione is willing to put in a little extra effort, then I see no reason why she should do poorly on her N.E.W.T.'s."

"She'll put in the extra effort," Draco said. "School is very important to her. And I'll help as best I can, I'm in many of her classes, so I can teach her what she misses, if she has an appointment."

"Good, good," said the healer. "Now, I don't know that Miss Granger is going to do these things willingly. Most of them don't. So, Mr. Malfoy, you may have to escort her to her first few meetings, just to make sure she goes in, but then you will be free to leave and go to your classes. I've been in contact with your Headmaster, and he thinks that is the best way to go about things."

Draco nodded. "That's no problem."

"Great. Hermione should wake up soon, and I will be checking in periodically. If she happens to wake up when I'm not here, you can explain what is going to happen, and I can go over it again later on. She should be able to leave tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay," said Aunt Rema, and Draco jumped. He had completely forgotten she was there.

The doctor nodded and let himself out of the room. Draco put his hand over Hermione's again and began to stare at the wall, hoping his only conscious companion in the room wouldn't be in the mood to talk either.

Luckily, twenty minutes passed in silence before Draco felt Hermione's hand move under his. He glanced up at her face, and saw her eyes open slightly, before closing and then reopening altogether.

She moaned quietly, and put a hand to her head before speaking. "Where-"

"Shh," Draco quickly shushed her. "You're in St. Mungo's. I hear you took quite the fall down the stairs. Too bad I wasn't there to catch you this time," he winked.

Hermione glared at him, proving that she was still angry, and she definitely remembered what had happened before her fall. "What are you doing here?" she whispered harshly.

Draco was about to respond, but Hermione's aunt Rema cleared her throat loudly, and Hermione looked around, obviously confused.

"Hermione, dear, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine Aunt Rema," Hermione said. "Besides this stabbing pain in my head."

"You got a concussion," Draco informed her.

"Great," the brunette said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm rather hungry," said Aunt Rema. "I think I'll just nip down to the cafeteria and find something to eat. You two talk."

Draco nodded, but Hermione stared at her aunt, willing her with her mind to stay. Much to Hermione's disappointment, the older woman strode over to the door and left without another word.

"So, what are you doing here?" Hermione repeated.

"Professor McGonagall told me you were in the hospital. Do you honestly think I would just shrug and walk away?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Maybe not, but you should have. I don't want you here."

"Hermione, come on. You're in the _hospital_, am I really not allowed to come and see you? You said we'd talk more about what was going to happen with us, so let's talk. I'm sorry if it seems like I've been crowding you lately, but your father just _died_ and you have been diagnosed with _anorexia_, excuse me for caring about your bloody life," Draco yelled. He took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of his temper, he didn't want to scream at Hermione while she was lying in a hospital bed.

"I think you should leave," Hermione whispered, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'm not going anywhere, we're going to talk."

"No, we're not. I don't feel much like talking to you now. I think I'll take a nap, I'm tired."

Draco took another deep breath, and reminded himself again that she was in the hospital. "Are we... are we through, then?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I guess we are."

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**A/N- Don't worry, this story is still Dramione, so don't get too pissed off about what just happened. Like I said this chapter's pretty short, but I promised myself that I would get my next chapter out before school started, and school starts tomorrow, so I made it by the skin of my teeth, and only by making this one short.**

**Thank you to all of you who reviewed, please keep it up!**


	18. We Might As Well Be Strangers

-Chapter Eighteen-

Hermione closed her eyes tightly after her blonde, now ex, boyfriend shut the wooden hospital door behind him. What in Merlin's name was she thinking? Breaking up with Draco, who has been nothing but amazing throughout everything? Had she completely lost her mind?

"It's for the best," Hermione whispered to herself.

_"Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity. Quick, call him back, maybe he's not too far gone and he can still here your voice. Just tell him you've lost your marbles, tell him you _have _gone insane,"_ she thought drastically.

"No, this is what I need," she told herself more sternly, once again, aloud.

"Talking to yourself, dear?" asked a gentle voice to her left.

Hermione jumped, she hadn't even noticed her mother was in the room. "Oh, er, yeah, sorry."

"That's quite all right, goodness knows we all do it from time to time." Her mother let out what seemed to be a crazed laugh.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, maybe she wasn't losing her mind after all, maybe her mother was. "You didn't happen to hear me and Draco's conversation...did you?" she asked her mom timidly.

"Well...uh, yes, I did. Sorry, I woke up when your aunt left, but I didn't want to interrupt, so I just pretended to still be asleep. I'm sorry darling. But, can I offer my opinion on the matter?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"You know you still will, even if I say no," Hermione smiled.

"Yes, I suppose I would. I think you should let him help you, Hermione. This is serious, and I need to know that there is _someone_ at that damn school keeping an eye on you. _I_ want to pull you out, but the healer seems to think that you will be able to manage to do well on your N.E.W.T's, which is very important for your career. So, as long as you go to all of your meetings and are gaining weight, I'm going to allow you to continue your education at Hogwarts. And I know how I always say that your education is the most important thing, but your health does have to come first. I can't lose another person, dear, please, try to understand," her mother whispered, looking down at her hands.

"Mum, I don't have...I'm not...," Hermione tried. "Mum, I'm fine. I just got a bit dizzy is all."

"Hermione, you're not fooling anyone, so stop with the lying. I feel like I hardly know you anymore! You never used to be like this! You didn't lie to me, we talked! You used to care more about your brains than your looks, but when you came home for Christmas, it was obvious you had changed. Now, I'd like to slap myself for not seeing it sooner. I've just been so distracted, well, maybe distracted isn't quite the word for it..." she trailed off helplessly. "The point is, you're anorexic, Hermione, and you are going to be getting help, whether you want it or not."

"That's not fair!" Hermione exclaimed. "I have rights! You can't _make_ me do anything!"

"_I am your mother_," Mrs. Granger shouted shrilly, "I can and most certainly will make you. Do you want to _die_, Hermione?"

"No, not really. But, maybe that would just be easier for everyone," the teenager whispered.

"Hermione Jane Granger! You take that back, you take that back _right now_! What would your father think if he could hear you right now? If you honestly think it would 'just be easier for everyone' then you are not as smart as everyone gives you credit for," her mother said. "Will you think of me for one second? I'm your mother! Do you think I wouldn't care if you just let yourself die? And Harry, Ron and Ginny? Your friends would be devastated." Hermione closed her eyes tightly, she knew who would be mentioned next. "What about Draco? Huh, Hermione? You love him, don't you dare tell me you don't, because it's obvious. And he loves you too! If you would just stop pushing him away and let him help you I'm sure he would be by your side in a second. You would break his heart if you died, Hermione, and I don't think that you want to do that."

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, which wasn't difficult to do as she was laying down. "Mum, I _really_ don't want to talk about Draco. It is none of your business, so just stay out of it."

"Hermione, come on, dear. _Please,_ for me, get help, get better," the older woman begged.

"Fine," Hermione muttered grudgingly, know that there was no way she was going to win this battle, not after all that had happened.

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"Are you ready to go?" Mrs. Granger asked Hermione.

It was the next afternoon, and Hermione was to return to Hogwarts. She was sitting on her bed, dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt, waiting to leave.

"Yes, I've been ready since I woke up yesterday. I still don't see why they had to feed me through that ridiculous tube," she said, her tone obviously annoyed.

"If you would have just eaten the food they gave you, then you wouldn't have had to go through it again. Honestly, Hermione, they weren't going to let you go home unless you ate your lunch yourself."

Hermione felt herself shudder at the memory of eating the greasy grilled-cheese sandwitch and chips. "It was vile, but there was no way I was staying there for one more moment."

"Well, get used to it," her mother said in a no-nonsense tone, "that's the only kind of food you're going to be eating until you gain at least 30 pounds back."

_"Over my dead body," _Hermione thought to herself. "Whatever, Mum."

"Don't forget about your appointment at noon with Doctor Nelson tomorrow, Hermione. Draco will escort you there to make sure that you go in, but you will have to go back alone. I'm assuming that you are capable of this?"

Hermione felt her chest swell with anger and she balled her hands into fists. "He is _not_ taking me, Mum! I am not a _child_!"

"Then stop acting like one," her mother snarled. "He is bringing you to your psychiatrists office whether you like it or not, so don't waste your breath!"

"He won't be able to bring me. I won't go if he's going."

"Then he will take you by force, if it comes to it. I daresay that he is stronger than you."

Tears of anger were now steadily streaming down Hermione's face, and people were glancing at the two as they passed by. "This isn't fair," Hermione muttered furiously. "None of this is fair."

"No, it's not," her mother sadly agreed. "I love you, dear, but I can't let you off this. I'm sorry."

Mrs. Granger leaned down to kiss Hermione on the forehead, but Hermione took a step back at the last second, sending an obvious message. The teenager walked into the fireplace behind her and reached her hand into the pot to her left, grabbing a handfull of the black powder. She glared at her mother one last time, before throwing the powder down and shouting "Hogwarts, Head's quarters."

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Hermione stepped out of the fireplace, closing her eyes so that her head would stop spinning. She looked around at the familiar surroundings, glad to finally be back. But, she also wished that she could just live in Gryffindor Tower, with her friends. Hermione knew that this wasn't an option, so she unwillingly made her way up the marble staircase and into her room.

She noticed that the once broken mirror was fixed, and hung perfectly on her wall. Draco, of course. He had also done a bit of cleaning, as the room was tidier than when she had left it. Somehow, this made Hermione want to cry. She fought the urge and went to sit on her bed.

Hermione wasn't sure what to do with herself until dinnertime, when she would have to make an appearance in the Great Hall. She owed her friends an explaination, and she was going to have to do it at some point, so why not just get it over with?

Sighing, she grabbed her bookbag from the foot of her bed and lugged her tired body back downstairs and onto the comfortable couch. Hermione layed her bag on the small table in front of her and pulled out her potions book. She might as well try to catch up on what she had missed in the past week. Or, at least she would have, but the problem was that she was already at least a month ahead in everything.

_"Oh, well," _she thought, _"it never hurts to be over a month ahead, I suppose. And I'll be missing some things because of all my 'doctor's appointments,' anyways."_

Hermione continued to study until she noticed that it was five o'clock. She took a minute to convince herself that she had to go dinner, so that the whole school didn't think that she had died or something. She walked carefully down to the Great Hall, nodding at anyone that greeted her.

She entered the room, determinedly finding an open spot at the Gryffindor table and not letting her eyes stray from it, especially towards the Slytherin table. She slid into her seat silently, only noticed by Ginny.

"Hermione!" she screamed. Which, of course, brought everyone's attention to the older girl.

Hey, Ginny," Hermione said weakly.

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "What happened? Where have you been?"

"Er-"

"Yeah, McGonagall comes over yesterday to tell _Malfoy_ of all people that you're in St. Mungo's, and she wouldn't even let _us_ go to see you! But, she tells the ferret she thinks he should be there? What is going on, Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I-"

"And before that, where on earth were you? You weren't at meals, or classes, everyone was worried!" added Ginny.

"Something-"

"Why were in at St. Mungo's anyways?" Ron questioned. "You don't look so-"

"SHUT UP!" Hermione screamed. She hadn't mean to, really, but she couldn't deal with all of the questions that were coming flying at her. Obviously she wasn't as ready as she thought she was.

She glanced around and noticed that the entire Great Hall was dead silent. Hermione knew that she had to get out of there, before the lunch she was forced to consume came up all over the Gryffindor table.

"I can't do this right now," she whispered, before throwing her hand over her mouth and sprinting out of the Great Hall and into the nearest girl's bathroom.

Hermione ran into the first stall and fell to her knees, only then uncovering her mouth and allowing herself to gag until the digested food poured into the toilet. When she was sure that she was done, she shuddered and flushed the toilet. She stood up carefully, not sure if her feet would be able to support her weight, and leaned against the side of the stall.

Hermione normally felt good, or accomplished after ridding herself of a meal, but this time didn't feel right. She wasn't in control of losing this meal, and she didn't like that at all. Hermione liked to have control.

She carefully unlocked the door to her stall and walked over to the sinks, glad to see that nobody else had come into the bathroom and heard her. She splashed some cold water on her face, then toweled it off, before leaving the room and heading up to her Dormitory.

"Love conquers," she said to the portrait of the smiling witch, who gladly let her through.

Hermione was surprised to see Draco already there, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He hadn't noticed her come in. She thought she may be able to sneak by him, and hurry up the staircase before he even saw her. But, then the portrait hole swung shut behind her with a loud bang, making both of them jump.

They stared at each other for a good two minutes, neither daring to move, until Draco decided to break the silence. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm _fine_," Hermione said rudely, but she was sure that her appearance must have been giving her away completely.

Draco nodded, knowing enough not to push her. "Hermione, I think we should talk...," he began. "Potter and Weasley know something's up with us."

"You want to know something, Malfoy?" Hermione asked him, but didn't wait for an answer. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't care what they think they know, or what they do know, I just _don't care_ anymore. There's nothing between us, ferret, so really, there's nothing for them to figure out."

Hermione watched the blonde's face as a mixture of emotions passed over it, before finally settling on anger.

Draco was sick of this, he was sick of being nice. "I agree, Mudblood," he choked out the last word. "Well, since I _have _to bring you to your appointment tomorrow, meet me down here at noon. Don't be late."

"Fine," Hermione snarled before turning on her heal and heading up the staircase and into her room, noticing for the first time how exhausted she was.

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**A/N- I know this chapters short too, but I updated quickly, so that should at least count for something. I feel like during the school year I update more frequently than during the summer, which is odd, considering I have so much schoolwork. **

**This is just another reminder (although I'm sure you guys are sick of me saying this) that this **_**is**_** going to be a Draco/Hermione, but I can't just let them stay together the whole time, have Hermione get over her eating disorder, and live happily ever after. Then the story would be over in the next couple of chapters. This gives me more to go with.**

**I also got a review saying that my story had quite a few Americanisms in it, and I completely understand where you're coming from on that, but please do try to understand that I am and American, struggling to write about a place I have never been. It's difficult to write a story with the characters being English, when I have never even been there. But thank you for your input, and I will try to work on that.**

**-------**

_**-Preview-**_

_"Good afternoon," said Dr. Nelson as Hermione walked in._

_"If you say so," Hermione muttered under her breath, taking a seat in the black leather chair that sat opposite Dr. Nelson's desk._

_"Excuse me?" he asked, not rudely, he just hadn't heard her._

_Hermione glared at him, and then rolled her eyes, she hated this man already._

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**Oh, Hermione...**

**I'm going to try to put a preview at the bottom of each authors note from now on. Please review!**


	19. The Desperate Kingdom Of Love

**A/N- You guys don't really deserve such a long chapter, after the measely five reviews, but I was in the mood for writing, so you're getting one. -**

-Chapter Nineteen-

"Let's go, Granger," Draco called up the staircase, his heart aching when he was forced to call her by her last name. "You're going to be late for your appointment, and _I'm_ missing lunch!"

"I'm _coming_!" yelled Hermione as she struggled to remember what the spell to make her hair straight was, venom in her voice. "Just give me a bloody second!"

"You don't have 'a bloody second,'" he called back. "You're supposed to be there _now_, Mudblood."

Hermione let out a strangled cry and decided to just put her hair in a ponytail. She pulled it up quickly, barely noticing the few pieces she hadn't quite managed to squeeze into the tight knot. She jogged over to her door, and then went down the stairs as quickly as she could.

Draco felt another pang in his heart when he saw her. She was wearing plain jeans that were at least two sizes too big, and held together with a safety pin and a white T-shirt that hung loosely from her frame. As she got closer he could see that goosebumps were covering her arms, and knew that it wasn't normal in the warmth of the castle. Even outside it was peculiarly warm, as Winter gradually changed to Spring.

"Gods," he whispered, but then realized what he had done and cleared his throat loudly. "Let's go."

Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, but shook any thoughts of him out of her mind, just wanting to get this entire thing over with. She nodded briskly, and walked through the portrait hole, Draco bringing up the rear. They had to walk out of Hogwarts grounds so that they could apparate into an alley next to Dr. Nelson's office. This was a muggle psychiatrist, so they had to enter as muggles.

When they finally walked past the gates that signified the grounds of Hogwarts, Hermione held out her hand tentively and Draco took it. Draco was the one that was told the address, so Hermione had no choice but to shut up and hold his hand while he apparated her away.

----

Hermione took a deep breath and put her hand to her head, she still wasn't entirely used to the feeling of apparation.

"I'm fine from here, Malfoy," she said and began to stroll out of the alley.

"No way, I was told to make sure you entered the guy's room. That means I'll be following you in, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored him as he lead her into the brick building and up a flight of stairs. He went over to the receptionist's desk and told her Hermione's name, and Hermione was told to go right in.

"I'll see you back at school?" Draco asked.

"I suppose you will, considering it's inevitable."

Draco looked hurt for only a moment, but regained composure so quickly Hermione was sure that she imagined it. He nodded and walked swiftly out the door, leaving Hermione to walk alone down the short hallway that led to Dr. Nelson's room. There was a small gold plate on the door that told her she was in front of the right one, but it was closed, so she knocked.

"Come in, Hermione," a voice called from within.

Hermione let herself in and quickly observed the office. It was medium sized, with the man's desk pushed somewhat against the wall. There was a chair in front of it, and a matching couch on the left. It looked too... uptight, for Hermione's liking.

"Good afternoon," said Dr. Nelson as Hermione walked in.

"If you say so," Hermione muttered under her breath, taking a seat in the black leather chair that sat opposite Dr. Nelson's desk.

"Excuse me?" he asked, not rudely, he just hadn't heard her.

Hermione glared at him, and then rolled her eyes, she hated this man already. He wasn't talking, and this made her slightly uncomfortable. She had been to a psychiatrist once before, when she was ten and her parents thought that she was too "aggressive," (their words, not hers) and the shrink she had been to had been all over her with questions, so much so that Hermione had thought at the time that the lady was _trying_ to get her angry.

Dr. Nelson, however, remained silent as he bore his expressive green eyes into her own brown ones. It was like a staring contest that neither wished to lose, and Hermione knew she sure as hell would come out victorious.

But, after five minutes of staring Hermione was about to lose her mind. She didn't like the uncomfortable silence, and she would do anything to fill it. "Are you just going to sit there and stare at me?" she asked rudely. The doctor's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. "I'm not some sort of animal in the zoo, you know," Hermione continued. "Aren't you supposed to be fixing me, or something?"

"Fixing you?" he asked.

"Yes, isn't that the whole reason I'm being forced to come here? So that you can figure out what's supposedly wrong with me and fix it?"

"Well, I'm not sure that I'm supposed to 'fix you,' but I will do what I can to help you with whatever's troubling you."

"_Nothing's_ troubling me, something's troubling my mother. She seems to have this delusional idea in her head that I'm-" Hermione cut short. "She has delusional ideas in her head."

The doctor nodded, staring at Hermione in a way that made her anxious. "So, what is this delusional idea that she has in her head?" he asked.

"I don't know," Hermione muttered. "I'm not psychic, I can't read her mind."

"Hmm, well, your form says that you were just released from the hospital yesterday for a panic attack and concussion."

"Yeah, so?"

"It also says that this panic attack was brought on by starvation and that you are severely underweight."

"My weight is fine!" the brunette exclaimed. _"No, it's not,"_ said a voice in the back of her head. _"You need to lose a bit more, and this man is just trying to stop you from reaching your goal, from becoming perfect."_ Hermione's eyes narrowed and she glared at the man across from her.

"Not according to your form, it's not."

"Well then my bloody form is lying!"

"So, you would say that a five foot five girl weighing ninety pounds is quite healthy?"

"Not necessarily. I am saying that _my_ weighing ninety pounds at _my_ height is healthy. Not everyone's body is the same, you know."

"I know that, Hermione. But, that weight should be nowhere near that low for that height," he said, his voice low. "I see here that you are going to be seeing a nutritionist, who will tell you about what kinds of foods you should be eating. I know the woman you will be meeting with well, but she will only give you guidelines, it is you that has to follow through."

"Yeah, sure," Hermione muttered.

"Now, your mother wishes for the nurse here to weigh you each week when you come in, to see that you are gaining. If your weight does not begin to increase, we may have to admit you to a hospital, in a ward with other teenagers your age. What is going on in your body is extremely dangerous, so we would have to take extreme precautions if your weight drops."

Hermione laughed a dry laugh. "What makes you think I'll be coming back here?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"You'll be back," he said simply.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be, Hermione. I can tell that you're a smart girl, and you would have found some way out if it, if you truly didn't want to be here."

"And why on earth would I want to be _here_?"

"You want to know what's wrong with you."

This caught Hermione off guard, and her cool façade fell, if only for a second, but it was still long enough for Dr. Nelson to realize what had happened. "You're wrong," she whispered. "There is nothing wrong with me."

The doctor nodded, but it was a disbelieving nod and Hermione knew it. "What does your mother think is wrong with you, Hermione?" he asked quietly.

"Isn't it on your little _form_, there?" Hermione snarled. "That seems to hold all of the answers."

"Actually," he said, "it is. But I would like to hear you say it."

"Why? What does it matter whether or not I repeat my mother's crackpot theory?"

"Well, it's not a theory. Your doctors have come to the same conclusion, and have diagnosed you with it. Now, if you could, what does your mother think is wrong with you?" Dr. Nelson asked firmly.

"She thinks I'm anorexic, okay?!" Hermione yelled.

Dr. Nelson nodded gravely. "I think we're done for today, Hermione."

"Great," she said sarcastically. She stood and began to walk out of the room.

"See you next week," the doctor said as she reached the door.

Hermione turned around and stared at him. "Don't hold your breath."

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Hermione was walking down to the Great Hall for dinner. She decided she would try to talk to her friends again, but not until they were away from all of the hustle and bustle that was dinnertime. She held her breath as she walked into the crowded room. She felt like everyone's eyes were on her, even if the majority of them weren't. Most people hadn't even noticed that she had come in. Hermione, who's presence was once the most sparkling thing in the room, seemed to just blend into the background now. She felt grateful for it.

Hermione sat down next to Ginny at the Gryffindor table, waiting for someone to say something.

"Hermione," Ginny regarded her cautiously.

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said to her best friend. She still was her best friend, wasn't she? "Hi, boys," she said to Ron and Harry who were just staring at her.

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron said, granting her a lopsided smile. He looked at her oddly for a second, as if trying to decide something. "You okay?" he asked finally.

"I'm fine, Ronald. A bit tired, though," Hermione admitted.

"That's good," he said. "Well, not that you're tired, that you're fine. I mean-"

"I know what you mean, Ron."

Ron then glanced over at Harry, who nodded. Ron nodded back and Hermione watched this strange display questioningly.

"Hermione, do you think we could talk?" Ron asked. "Just me and you, I mean. Somewhere quieter?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows but nodded. "Sure, we can go to my common room, I guess," she said, glancing over carefully at the Slytherin table where Draco was still seated, staring intently at his empty plate.

The redhead looked grateful, and they both rose and walked awkwardly out of the Great Hall. The two didn't speak at they headed up to the Head's quarters, but every once in a while Ron would look at her for a few seconds, open his mouth to say something, but then close it. Hermione guessed he didn't think she saw him do this, so she kept her mouth shut and spoke the password that let them into the common room.

"This is nice," Ron said, and Hermione remembered that this was his first time in here. Even when they were dating, she would go to the Gryffindor common room, never wanting Ron and Draco to run into each other.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "I suppose it is."

She sat down on the couch in front of the fire, and Ron followed her example. After a few minutes of silence, she turned to face him.

"You wanted to talk to me?" she asked.

"Oh, er, yeah..." He went quiet again.

"Anything in particular that you wanted to talk about?" Hermione tried again.

"Yeah," he said. He took a deep breath, like he was preparing himself for something.

Hermione did not like where this was going.

"Hermione, what has been going on?" Ron asked finally, his eyes full of concern. "You show up at dinner last night for the first time in a week, and then when we ask you where you've been, you run off as fast as Snape confronted with shampoo." He laughed weakly.

Hermione just shook her head, and felt her eyes become glassy. She didn't want to think about her father, not now.

"Come on, 'Mione. We've been best friends since we were eleven. If you can't talk to me, then who can you talk to?" Ron asked desperately.

_"Draco," _her mind screamed. _"But you went and messed that up, didn't you?"_

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, and the tears she had been trying to hold back spilled over. "Ron, I don't know what to do. I don't know..." she trailed off helplessly, as she began to sob. She felt herself being to lose it, felt her composure trickling away.

Ron, who was completely baffled, didn't know what else to do but take her in his arms and hold her tight to his chest, muttering soothingly into her hair comforting words.

Hermione was only just beginning to gather control of herself when the portrait hole swung open and none other than Draco Malfoy walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks as he took in what he was witnessing. Hermione watched as his face fell and she ripped away from Ron, who was also very confused and felt as if he was intruding on something, but wasn't entirely sure what.

"Draco...I-," Hermione began, but she was interrupted.

"Save it, Mudblood. I'll just let you and the Weasel, here get back to whatever it was you were doing," he snarled, and then turned on his heel and left the way he came, the portrait swinging shut with a loud bang.

Hermione began to cry again, and Ron stared at her, dumbfounded. He put each of his hands gently on her shoulders and turned her towards him.

"Hermione, what the hell was that?" he asked.

Hermione just shook her head and began to shake, sobs ripping through her. "You...you sh-should go," she managed to get out.

Ron shook his head. "No way, I'm not leaving you alone like this," he said as if she was crazy.

"JUST GO!" she shrieked, taking even herself by surprise. She was taking deep shuddering breaths now, as the tears continued to stream down her face. "P-please, Ron."

Ron stared at her for a long moment, before finally nodding. "Okay, Hermione. But I'm always here for you, you know that? So are Harry and Ginny. We're your friends, and you can tell us anything. We won't judge you," he said, before getting up.

He smiled sadly down at her for a second, and then left the same way Draco had, leaving Hermione to cry alone on the couch.

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Hermione sighed, glad that classes were over for the day. The first day back to class after a week long vacation had been difficult, even for 'the smartest witch of her age.' Hermione scoffed at that thought. If she were really the smartest witch of her age, she wouldn't be confused in Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions, she would never have told Draco she didn't want to be with him, and she would have somehow prevented her father's accident. She would also be able to admit to her friends what was really going on, because she would know that they would help her get through it. But, no, Hermione was now positive that she was not the smartest witch of her age, she could actually be in running for the stupidest, the way she was behaving lately.

The brunette slowly made her way up to the portrait of the smiling witch, ready to go eat some celery for dinner, and then pull an all night study-fest. She knew she needed it.

"Love conquers," she said and the door swung open, allowing Hermione to crawl through.

She walked casually into the kitchen, not expecting to see Draco sitting at the table with one plate in front of him, and one across from him, much as he had the morning after they started their relationship.

Hermione decided to ignore him and went into the fridge to get her celery.

"Granger, are you by any chance blind?" Draco asked from his seat at the table.

"No, I think my vision's fine, thank you," she responded. This was the first time they were speaking since he had walked in on her and Ron. Even though that was totally innocent, Hermione knew what Draco must have thought, and had steered clear of him. It seemed that he was pretending it never happened, which worked just fine for her.

"Then do you not see that I have two plates set here?"

"No, I saw that."

"Do you not realize that one of them is for you?" he tried again.

"I had my suspicions," she told him.

"Well, it is, so come sit down."

"I ate a large lunch," Hermione said. "I was just going to get some celery and head up to my room. I have loads of homework."

"Don't lie to me, Hermione. You seem to forget that my vision's perfectly fine too, and that I saw you not eating at lunch today."

"I must have been when you weren't looking," Hermione said stubbornly. "You couldn't have been watching me the entire time."

"Oh, but I was, Granger. You see, your mother is depending on me to be her eyes while you are here, and I don't think that poor woman needs another death anytime soon," he said, staring her in the eye.

"Nobody's dying, Draco. Don't be so dramatic," Hermione said with a toss of her hand.

"Then let's eat. You must be starved," he persisted.

"Malfoy, we aren't together anymore! You can't do this! You can't pretend to care, it doesn't work like that anymore!" she yelled.

"Eat. The. Fucking. Food, Granger," he said, his voice dangerously low.

"Fine," she muttered, seeing no way out of this. If she didn't just eat it, then he would tell her mother, who would tell her shrink, who would have her put in a muggle hospital. She could always just get rid of it afterwards anyways.

She sat down across from the blonde, and began to scarf down the sandwitch in front of her, acting much like Ron. When she was done she drank half of the glass of milk that sat next to her and stood up, never looking at Draco.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have studying to do," she said, and exited the room.

Draco stared at her retreating form, he knew something was up, but he wasn't sure what. When he heard her door bang shut, he stood up and followed her, gently opening her door, he found that she wasn't in the room, so she must be in the bathroom. He heard loud coughing, that almost sounded like...gagging.

Draco crossed the room quickly, resting his head against the door so that he could hear better. It was silent for a moment, but then the noise started again.

Draco pressed his ear harder against the bathroom door, now sure that she was gagging. Then, he heard the unmistakable sound of vomit finding it's way into the toilet. There was silence for a moment, followed by a quiet whimper and more gagging. This went on until he was sure that Hermione was only dry-heaving now.

He stepped away from the door carefully, silently and sat down on her bed. He had no idea that she would go to such measures to destroy herself. Because that's what she was doing, whether she realized it or not.

Hermione got to her feet, her hands shaking and one covered in vomit. She roughly grabbed a piece of toilet paper and took all of her anger out by furiously wiping her hand clean, so much so that when she took the thin white sheet away, her right hand was a flaming red and aching. Her eyes were still watering slightly, so she grabbed another piece of toilet paper and wiped at them, realizing that she must have just smudged her eyeliner and mascara all over her face only when she examined the paper and saw that it was covered in streaks of black.

"Great," she muttered, "just bloody brilliant."

Hermione walked over to the mirror that hung on the opposite side of the large room, and felt her breath catch at her appearance. She knew that she looked like death walking, especially with all of the black under her eyes, but didn't bother to wash it away. It would drain too much energy that Hermione wasn't sure she had to spare. She was pushing it by just standing as it was. To her, her face still looked slightly fat, but even she knew that her cheeks were sunken in to an extreme and her upper cheekbones stuck out sharply.

Feeling drained, Hermione decided she would turn in early, and walked out the bathroom door. She didn't even look at the right side of her room, where her bed, and a certain blonde, remained. She walked over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of pajama pants and a large T-shirt that had once been Draco's. She stared at it in her hands for a moment, and then pulled the shirt to her nose, searching for some scent of him, but was left disappointed. Any trace of him had disappeared and was replaced with the scent of Hermione's shampoo, from so many wearings.

She frowned and felt her chin quiver, before she caught herself and took a deep breath. Just as Hermione was about to pull the large sweatshirt she was wearing over her head, she heard someone cough loudly from behind her. She screamed and whipped around, she had thought she was _alone_.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" she demanded, outraged, as Malfoy stood across from her with and unreadable look in his eyes.

"I heard you," was all he said.

Hermione's eyes widened in panic. "You heard me what?"

"I heard what you just did. In the bathroom," he clarified, still staring at her with that look. Pity, maybe?

"So?" she asked, thinking quickly. "Is it a crime to be ill?"

"Hermione, you aren't ill. Or, at least not in the way you're saying."

"Yes, I am! You just heard me... I was actually just going to go to bed, so, if you'd excuse me...," she walked over to her door and held it open.

Draco walked over to it, and Hermione smiled, if only slightly, glad he would finally just listen to her. But, when he reached the door, all he did was take Hermione's hand gently off the doorknob and shut it, then turning to stand in front of it. There was no way out.

"Do you think I'm daft?" Draco asked.

"I-"

"That was a rhetorical question. I think I must be daft to not have noticed what you've been doing, why you ate that dinner I just forced upon you. You've just found a way to get rid of it, any time you decide your body needs food, you just have been throwing it up afterwards, haven't you?" he demanded. Hermione stared at him, not speaking. "Haven't you, Hermione?" he asked again, gently.

"No," Hermione whispered, but she knew it was a lost cause. He had heard her for god's sake.

Draco stepped forward, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. When she willingly fell into the embrace, he breathed a sigh of relief, at least she was letting him near her.

"You know I have to tell someone," he whispered into her hair. That was a mistake.

Hermione pulled away, hard. "No, you don't!" she pleaded.

"Hermione-"

"No, Draco, you really don't have to! I promise that I will _never_ do it again, it was vile anyhow. I only did it just then, that was the first time ever, I swear to you," she said. "You can watch me. You can make sure that I'm eating and not... not making myself sick afterwards! I'd much rather you be with me then some strangers at a Muggle hospital!"

Now Draco was confused. "A Muggle hospital?" he asked. "What are you talking about?"

"If they find out that I did this, they'll, they'll send me away," Hermione whispered in a broken voice. "They'll put me in a ward of some Muggle hospital, and who knows when I'd be able to leave. I bet they wouldn't even let me see you," she said, stretching the truth a bit. She knew that she would be allowed visitors, and it wouldn't be quite as torturesome as she was making it sound, but when was the last time Draco had been in a Muggle hospital? She knew she had him fooled. He was falling for it hook, line, and sinker. "Draco, please, please don't let them put me away. I can't be without you for that long."

Draco's face was contorted in a mixture of emotions. He knew that part of him wanted to tell her mother, or Dr. Nelson, or whoever, but another, stronger, part was telling him that he couldn't be without her for that long either. "Do you swear that you'll stop this?" he asked.

"Draco, I promise you," Hermione whispered. She then stepped forward slightly and engulfed him in a heated kiss, before he could change his mind.

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**A/N- So last chapter only got five reviews, which is the lowest number I have ever gotten. I'm pretty disappointed, because you guys had been doing so good with leaving them, and then you just stopped. Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter that much, but I do love hearing what you guys have to say about the chapters, because I don't know if you're liking them, or hating them, or what. So pleaseee review this chapter! **

**About the story, Hermione is begining to get desperate, desperate enough to be conniving and lying, even to Draco. She sees that she will soon be forced to stop this ridiculous behavior, but she isn't ready to, so she acts this way. It's sad, yes, that Draco believes her, but you can often trick the ones that love you into believing anything if you word it the right way, which anorexics are pros at.**

**She will begin to get better soon, I promise, but it's a long and painful road to recovery, and every day is a challenge. **

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_**-Preview-**_

_"You lied to me," Draco whispered, staring deep into Hermione's eyes. "You said you would stop this."_

_"Draco, no, I didn't lie, I just-"_

_"No, Hermione, you lied to me. There's no way around it. I don't know why I believed you. Who knows how many other things you lied about?" he yelled. _

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**My birthdays in 3 days, this Sunday, so I will probably be busy with the family and won't be able to write more until Monday or Tuesday. So the next chapter should be up by the middle or end of next week, depending on how busy I am. **


	20. Truth, Bitter Truth

-Chapter Twenty-

Harry and Ginny were sitting at the Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall eating breakfast before class. Ron was in the library, trying desperately to finish an essay for Potions, which they had first, and Hermione had yet to turn up. Harry had already finished eating his eggs and toast and was watching Ginny eat her oatmeal, feeling slightly bored.

"I'll be right back," Harry said to Ginny.

"Okay," she agreed.

Harry got up and left the Great Hall, heading in the direction of the boy's bathroom, glancing around the halls as he walked. Surprisingly, something caught his eye.

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were attached at the hand and Malfoy was leading the Gryffindor behind one of the tall pillars in the hallway. Harry quickly maneuvered himself so that he was hidden in the shadow of a staircase, and the odd pairing was still in sight.

"I'll see you after classes, then? We'll have dinner upstairs, and then your appointment is at five-thirty," Harry heard Draco say. "And I'll be watching during lunch, I better see you eating."

Harry's mind was racing, what was Malfoy talking about? Why was he instructing Hermione to eat? Why would Hermione ever want to have dinner with him? Why was the little ferret actually being _nice_? As if these questions weren't enough, what happened next made Harry think he might drop on the spot.

"Okay," Hermione was agreeing, smiling innocently up at the blonde.

Malfoy smiled back, leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, before giving her hand a brief squeeze and stepping out from behind the pillar, glancing around to be sure he wasn't seen. Harry stepped deeper into the shadow of the staircase and breathed a sigh of relief when Draco didn't appear to see him.

What the hell was going on?

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"Hermione?" Draco called as he walked into the common room, dropping his bag on his favorite couch.

"Coming!" she yelled from upstairs.

Hermione glanced at the reflection in her mirror and frowned at the girl looking back. It was all wrong, so wrong. The face showed no happiness, where had the light from the girl's eyes gone? The girl didn't look smart or kind like it usually did, it looked blank. Dull. Ordinary.

Hermione sighed and stepped away from the mirror, plastering a smile on her face before she went downstairs to meet Draco.

"Hey," she said as she entered the room. Hermione stood on her tip-toes to peck him on the lips. "How was your day?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Horrible. I only got to talk to you once."

"Good boy," Hermione said, smiling at him. "Anyway, what's for dinner?" she asked with feigned interest.

"Burgers," he replied and placed two plates on the table. Each one had a large cheeseburger on it and Hermione cringed.

"Yum," she murmured and took a seat.

Draco did the same and immediately took a bite out of the grotesque flab of meat that might as well be dripping with fat. He looked at her carefully, it had been a little less than a week since the incident in Hermione's room that had somehow gotten them back together, and Hermione had been eating, and as far as Draco knew, hadn't been throwing up afterwards. But, that didn't mean that things would stay that way, as much as he wished they would.

"Aren't you going to eat, Hermione?" he asked.

Hermione forced a smile and delicately picked up her burger, taking a small bite of it. "Of course I am," she said after chewing.

She continued to eat the burger very slowly, chewing each bite fifteen times before allowing herself to swallow it. Even after Draco had finished he stayed with her, watching her eat. Finally, Hermione had finished two thirds of the burger and placed it down on her plate.

"I'm full," she declared.

"Okay," Draco said, happy with the amount she had managed to get down. "Do you want to do our homework down here tonight?"

"Yeah, sure," Hermione agreed. "Just let me go get my bag and change into more comfortable clothes."

"All right," Draco said and stood to clear the table as she went upstairs. Just then it hit him that he meant to ask Hermione to be sure to get her Transfiguration book, as he had left his in class. He placed the last dish in the sink and headed upstairs.

Draco entered Hermione's room without knocking, she was just getting her bag and changing, right? He was surprised to find nobody in there. He wondered where she went, until he heard an all too familiar coughing sound. Infuriated, he strode over to the bathroom door and wrenched it open.

Hermione was kneeling in front of the toilet, face pale and eyes watering. Her eyes darted over to the door where Draco stood and he saw her look truly scared. The room smelled like puke.

Hermione tried to clear her throat, but it was too dry. She got up and filled a cup from next to the sink with water and gulped it down.

"You lied to me," Draco whispered when she had put the cup back, staring deep into her eyes. "You said you would stop this."

"Draco, no, I didn't lie, I just-"

"No, Hermione, you lied to me. There's no way around it. I don't know why I believed you. Who knows how many other things you lied about?" he yelled.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded.

"It means- it means exactly that. I don't know that I can trust you."

"Draco," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "You _can_ trust me, I wouldn't lie to you."

Draco wrapped his hands around her wrists and slowly pushed them back to her sides. "But, don't you see, Hermione? You_ did_ lie to me, you said you wouldn't throw up your food anymore, and you have."

"How would you know? Unless you followed me, which means that you'd be spying on me, which means that _you_ don't trust _me_."

"Well, I would trust you if you didn't give me reason to not," Draco retaliated.

"That didn't even make sense!" yelled Hermione. "It seems we're caught in a circle of doubt then, Draco, and I'm not sure that's exactly healthy in a relationship."

"No, what's not healthy is anorexia and bulimia! _That's_ not healthy, and _that's_ why I'll be going in with you to your psychiatrist today and talking to him. You need serious help, Hermione, and you're going to get it, whether you want it or not."

"You have absolutely _no_ control over me, you can not make me do anything," Hermione said, her voice dangerously low.

"Maybe not, but I would hate to have to get Dumbledore or your mother to drag you off to a hospital."

Hermione glared at him, if looks could kill, Draco would no longer be living. "I'm not going back to that stupid man," Hermione said, her voice calm again. "I'd like to see someone try to make me."

"Hermione, come on, don't do this!" Draco begged, his eyes pleading with her. "Let's just go to your appointment and be done with it."

"Have you been listening to me? I told you they will put me in some kind of Muggle hospital or something! Please, Draco, don't let them do it."

"I'm beginning to think that might be a good idea, 'Mione," Draco said, frowning.

"Don't call me that, don't you _dare_ call me that," her tone was murderous. "Only my friends can call me that, and you do not currently fall into that category. Friends don't lock each other up!" Hermione screamed.

"Friends also don't let each other starve themselves," Draco said. "Friends don't let other friends die!"

"Who's dying?! Nobody is dying, Draco. You don't die from diets."

"No, but you can die from anorexia," Draco said simply.

"I never- I'm not-" Hermione didn't know what to say. Where the doctors, her family, and Draco right? She knew her body needed much more food than she was giving it, but did that automatically make you anorexic? Just because you wanted to have control ofsomething, _anything_, for once? Just because she wanted to _feel_, even if it was just the pain of her stomach eating itself? No, she decided, it doesn't. She had read about anorexia in a few books, and the pictures always showed tiny, skinny girls, girls with absolutely no fat on their body. Hermione didn't look like them, not yet anyway. "I'm not anorexic," she said finally, her tone firm. "I am, however, stupid. I don't know why I thought I could trust you, you don't understand that I'm on this diet to be skinny, to be good enough for you, for _anyone_!"

"You are-"

"No!" she screamed. "Don't interrupt me! I'm going to the library, I need to study," she said, grabbing her bookbag from next to her bed. "Don't follow me," she said, before walking quickly over to her door and leaving.

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"Yo, Malfoy," Blaise called from across the Entrance Hall.

Draco forced a fake smirk and walked over to the olive-skinned boy, he really didn't want to talk to his "best friend" right now.

"Where the hell have you been?" Blaise asked when Draco had reached him. "I haven't talked to you in a week, man."

"I've been busy," Draco said through clenched teeth.

"Busy with what?" he persisted.

"Just with stuff."

"Ohh.." Blaise winked at him knowingly. "Wow, that must have been one hell of a chick to keep you busy for a week. You usually take off after a day or so."

"It's not like that," Draco said, feeling his temper rising. "I mean- it wasn't a girl."

"Then what was it?" asked Blaise, his eyes narrowing.

"I don't know. Classes, I guess."

Blaise smirked. "Why don't you get the Mudblood to help you out? You two _are_ living together."

"I don't think I could stand to be near the filth long enough to ask her," Draco said, his voice tight.

"Too right," laughed Blaise. "I don't know how you do it, mate."

"Me neither," said Draco. Suddenly, he spotted Potter and Weasley making their way towards the staircase across the hall. It was now or never. "I- er- have to go. I hear Potter's been running his mouth about me, time to show him who's in charge," he managed to get out, before swiftly turning and heading towards Hogwarts' own little hero.

"Hey, Scarhead," Draco called out when he was within two feet of him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his expression was guarded.

Draco glanced around, where could they talk without being interrupted? His eyes fell upon a random classroom right next to them, the door was open and the inside was dark and empty. "Go in there. I don't want to be interrupted."

"Do you think we've gone mental?" Ron demanded, staring at the blonde as if he were crazy. "Do tell, ferret, why we would _ever_ enter an empty classroom with you. Your little 'Lord' has probably told you to get us alone and do the _Avada Kedavra_ on the spot."

Draco felt anger errupt inside of him. "Don't you ever, _ever_, speak of things that you do not understand," he growled, every word laced with menace.

"I don't have to-" Ron began.

"Enough," said Harry, his tone held authority. "What the hell do you want, Malfoy?" he asked again.

"Just get in the classroom, Potter, I have to talk to you."

Harry looked doubtful and Ron was shaking his head, but then he remembered what he saw earlier that morning; Malfoy kissing Hermione on the head, and her looking like she actually _enjoyed_ it. Maybe he would find out answers. Why she was in St. Mungo's, why she missed class for a week, why she was strange and distant would all be good places to start.

"Fine," he said, and started towards the door, Ron right behind him.

"Nope, I don't think so Weasley," Draco said. "No sidekicks allowed."

"If Ron doesn't come, then I don't come. I'm just going to tell him everything anyway," said Harry.

"That's your choice, but I can only handle talking to one Gryffindor at a time. Do you want information, or not, Scarhead?"

Harry glared at the blonde, but shrugged none the less. "Ron, we have to find out what's going on, and I think he knows," he said to his friend. "I'll meet you back in the common room."

"Fine," Ron grunted. The redhead brushed past Draco and headed up the staircase to his left.

Harry turned to face Draco, who rolled his eyes and walked into the classroom, leaving Harry to follow in his wake. Once they were both inside, Draco closed the door and locked it before turning to face the other boy.

"I assume you have noticed that something's wrong with Hermione," he began. When Harry didn't answer, Draco raised his eyebrows. "You _have_ noticed something, haven't you?" he demanded, his tone incredulous.

"Of course I've noticed, Malfoy," Harry said. "_I'm_ her friend, not you."

Draco laughed sarcastically. "You have a funny way of showing it. When was the last time the two of you had an actual conversation?"

"That is none of your damn business. How do you know anything about Hermione, she hates you, we all hate you. Why are you even talking to me? _I _hate you more than anyone."

"This is bigger than me and you, Potter," Draco growled. "Leave our histories as that; history. Hermione needs help, and as much as I wish I could, I can't do this alone."

"What's wrong with her? Malfoy, what did you do?" Harry asked, instantly worried about his best friend.

"I didn't do anything!" Draco yelled. How dare Saint Potter come over and accuse him of hurting Hermione? Like he would ever do anything to hurt her.

"Then what the hell is it?"

"I can't tell you everything, that's for her to do when she's ready. But, I can tell you that she's not eating. No matter what kind of bull story she feeds you about eating in the dormitories, don't believe it, she's pretty good at lying now. She was diagnosed with anorexia, Potter. This is serious," the blonde said, his face ashen.

"Is that why she was in St. Mungo's?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

Harry stared at him in suspicion. "Why do _you_ care about Hermione?

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he supposed to say? He was in love with her? She was his whole world? Without her, he was sure that the Earth would stop spinning? None of these seemed like acceptable answers. "That doesn't matter. All that matters is her, and right now, Hermione is doing her best to make damn sure 'her' doesn't exist anymore."

"I'll talk to her," Harry agreed. He had known something was up with Hermione, and this seemed to explain a lot.

"Just... don't push her, Potter. She'll push back twice as hard." With those confusing words of advice, Draco turned around and strolled away, leaving his rival alone in the empty classroom.

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**A/N- This chapter feels all wrong, I'm not sure why, but it does. That is why it has taken me a bit longer to update, no matter what I wrote it didn't feel right. I don't know what it is about this chapter, but it is probably my least favorite. I don't know, maybe it's not the worst one. That's for you guys to tell me, so please do.**

-_Preview-_

"And what do you want, Hermione?" Dr. Nelson asked.

Hermione faltered. "I want- I want to be pretty. I want someone to think 'There's Hermione Granger, isn't she beautiful?' I don't always want to be seen as the smart girl. I want to be good enough for my boyfriend. I want something in my life to be just mine, something nobody can touch, nobody can change but me. I want this, I don't want to eat, and I won't."

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**Don't forget to review!**


	21. Nothing Left To Say But Goodbye

-Chapter Twenty-One-

Harry stood forgotten in the deserted classroom he had just spoken to Malfoy in only two minutes earlier, mind racing. He had to go find Hermione, and he had to find her _now_, but where would she be? He glanced down at his watch, to see that it was now eight-thirty at night. _That rules out the Great Hall, dinner ended two hours ago,_ he thought to himself. Although, if what Malfoy said was true then she wouldn't be in the Great Hall anyway, would she?

He thought again for a few minutes, before it occurred to him that he knew exactly where she'd be, and should have known from the start. Harry exited the classroom and walked swiftly towards the library, which would close in a half hour. As he entered the large room, he spotted Madame Pince glaring at him from her desk.

"The library closes in twenty-five minutes, Mr. Potter. I suggest you hurry," she said.

"Er, yeah. I'll be quick," said Harry, and scanned the room rapidly with his eyes. He didn't see her. "Madame Pince? Have you seen Hermione Granger in here recently?"

The older woman granted him a rare smile, "Yes, I think she just went to a quieter table on the other side of the shelves."

Harry nodded and walked in the direction she had indicated. Sure enough, Hermione was seated alone at a small table, staring into a book. He sat down next to her and looked at her, _really_ looked at her for what seemed like the first time in weeks. He saw immediately what Malfoy was talking about, and anger raged inside him for not noticing how deathly she appeared earlier. For someone that has a 'Saving People Thing' he can't even save his best friend from herself?

He cleared his throat loudly, in hopes that she may look up. She didn't. Hermione continued to stare directly at the book, her eyes not moving as if she were reading, just looking at one word. This wasn't going to be easy.

"Hermione?" he asked cautiously.

Her head shot up and she sent him a deathly glare. "What? Do you need some help with your homework? Maybe you've had a row with Ginny and are here to beg me to help you sort it out?" Hermione snapped.

"No," Harry said, obviously taken aback. "No, Hermione. I'm here to talk to you, about you."

Her glare fizzled out, and she was just looking at him dully, no expression in her eyes at all. "What about me? Don't tell me you've spoken with Malfoy."

"Well, I have. But I've been meaning to speak to you about it myself anyway." Lie. He hadn't even thought about talking to her about it and they both knew it.

"There's nothing to talk about, Harry, I'm fine," Hermione said, and forced a small reassuring smile onto her lips.

Harry stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I think you're lying, Hermione," he said finally.

"And I think you were lying when you said you'd been meaning to talk to me," Hermione challenged.

A strangled noise escaped Harry's throat and looked up at the ceiling, as if expecting to find all of the answers up there. "What is wrong with us?" he asked. "Why are we being like this? You, Ron, and I haven't had a real conversation in months, nevermind spent any time together. I feel like I hardly know you anymore, Hermione."

"I don't think you want to know me anymore."

Harry looked at her, his best friend. Were they best friends anymore, or was her new best friend Draco Malfoy? "What does that mean?" he asked.

"Nevermind, forget it," Hermione said. She closed the book she had been reading and shoved it into her schoolbag. "As fun as this chat is, Harry, I think I should be going."

"No," Harry said firmly. "I'm not finished talking to you."

"Well I'm finished talking to you," she said, standing up and pushing in her chair.

"What happened to you, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Where is the Hermione Granger I've known for six years?"

Hermione shook her head, "Nothing, she just wasn't good enough," she said. She picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and left the library without another word.

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The portrait hole slammed shut behind Hermione with a finalizing 'bang.' Draco was sitting on the couch facing the fireplace, a book open in his lap, the tip of a quill in his mouth, he looked up as she came in.

"You talked to Harry?" Hermione demanded. Her tone was a no-nonsense firm, but she didn't appear to be as angry as she had been earlier.

"Yes," Draco admitted. He knew she wouldn't be happy, but he was glad he talked to Potter, something had to be done.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm worried about you, love."

"Daring," muttered Hermione.

Draco looked confused. "What was that?"

"I said you were daring. Calling me 'love' like that, just now. It was a bold move, considering the current circumstances."

"Well, don't I have a right to? That's something many boyfriends call their girlfriends. But, I guess we aren't together right now?" he laughed cruelly. "You should inform me, I can't seem to keep track anymore the way you jerk me around."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out in one big rush of air. "What do you want me to say, Draco?"

"I want you, for once in your life, to give me a straight answer. I want to know if we are together or not," he said, staring her in the eye with a look that could melt metal.

"Draco, it's really not that simp-"

"No, Hermione," Draco cut her off, "it is. It's a _simple_ yes or no question. I'm sick of you taking me forgranted, just yelling at me and expecting me to keep coming back for more."

Hermione looked stunned, if only for a moment before she regained her composure. "Then stop coming back."

"Fine. I'm done with this shit. You treat me like shit and I might as well be shit the way I let you walk all over me," the blonde snarled, he had finally snapped. He had tried to be good for her, to help her, but now he was beginning to wonder why he had bothered in the first place. Malfoys didn't care about other people unless there was a way to use them, and they definitely didn't care about mudbloods. "I mean it, Hermione. We're through."

Hermione helplessly shook her head, she didn't actually expect him to leave her. She opened her mouth once, but nothing came out so she shut it.

Draco stared at her for a long moment before turning and beginning to walk up to his room. "Don't forget to show up for your appointment tonight. I'm not taking you and my ass is on the line if you don't go." He turned around to glare at her, a look that made her hands shake slightly. "So you'd _better_ go," he said before turning again and entering his room, slamming the door behind him.

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"Up you get, dear," The elderly nurse said, indicating to the scale.

Hermione sighed and slid her shoes off, before taking a deep breath and standing on the scale. She watched the nurse move the weights until they settled on eighty-eight. Hermione smiled at this, she had broken the nineties.

The nurse, however, did not look so pleased. She made a disapproving 'tutting' noise and unwillingly wrote the number down on Hermione's chart.

"Dr. Nelson is waiting for you," she said, handing Hermione the chart. "Go ahead and give this to him when you go in."

Hermione nodded and walked down the narrow hallway until she reached the open door of Dr. Nelson's room.

"Welcome back," he said cheerily from the chair at his desk.

Hermione said nothing as she dropped her chart on his desk and sat down in the seat across from him.

"How are you today?" he asked.

"Fine," she muttered.

He nodded absently and opened her chart. "You've lost two more pounds," he commented.

"And?"

Dr. Nelson just shook his head. "Let's talk about school today, Hermione."

"If we must."

He ignored her. "Do you have many friends?" he asked.

"Sure."

"Any boyfriends?"

"You could call him that."

"Do you like your classes?"

"Sometimes."

"And your teachers?"

"Depends which day you ask me." Hermione knew she was giving the man a hard time, with her one word answers, but she didn't really care. This guy was not her friend, he was nothing to her but the enemy, the one that would make her start eating.

Dr. Nelson sighed. "Why are you here, Hermione? It's quite obvious that you don't want to be here. What is making you come back?"

"Do you think I _want_ to be here? If you do then I think you're the one that needs a shrink, not me," Hermione said, glaring at him.

"Then what do you want, Hermione?" Dr. Nelson asked.

Hermione faltered. Should she answer his question honestly, give away everything that she had been thinking for months, or should she shut him out and lock the door? She did want to know why she felt as she did, why she appeared so much fatter than Lavender Brown, who just stuffed her face all day.

Finally she took a deep breath, "I want- I want to be pretty. I want someone to think 'There's Hermione Granger, isn't she beautiful?' I don't always want to be seen as the smart girl. I want to be good enough for my boyfriend. I want something in my life to be just mine, something nobody can touch, nobody can change but me. I want this, I don't want to eat, and I won't."

He didn't even blink, didn't move, not a muscle. "Even if that means upsetting your friends and family?"

"I'd think that would rather me not be utterly revolting. And besides, my friends don't care what I do."

"Then are you sure that it is wise to have them as friends?"

"No. Well, they don't so much not care as they don't have time to care," she explained. "They're busy, they have girlfriends and lives of their own, they can't spend their time worrying about whether Hermione is eating or not."

Dr. Nelson nodded. "And your boyfriend? Does he support your decision to not eat?"

"Not exactly." Hermione suddenly found her fingernails very interesting.

"Does it start arguments?" he pushed.

"Sometimes. I just wish he could leave it alone. It has to be done, so I'm doing it."

"Are you ever afraid that you are taking this too far?"

"Taking what too far?"

"Everything, your eating habits, your desperate need to have everything in control."

"I don't have to have everything in control," Hermione spat, rage causing her voice to crack. "I know that not everybody is perfect, I know that each and every person on this planet has their flaws."

"Especially you?" he asked it as a question, but Hermione had a feeling it really wasn't. She didn't answer.

Dr. Nelson glanced across the room to the clock that hung on the wall. "Okay, Hermione. Today has been very successful, but I am afraid that we are out of time." He looked down at his planner that lay on his desk in front of him. "I see you're scheduled in here for next Tuesday, I look forward to seeing you then."

Hermione nodded briskly and stood up. "Sure," she said as she walked out of the room.

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**A/N- Short chapter, I know and I'm sorry. I only had a limited amount of time to finish it up. I also know it took a while, and I'm sorry for that too. Things have been a bit hectic. **

**But anyways, I have an amazing Beta, named Sam. The only problem is I think that she may be a little biased when it comes to my work, seeing as she is my best friend. So, with that said I am looking for someone who may be up to the job of being my Beta. It's quite a lot of work, between my waayy too many comma mistakes to parts of the story that just don't make sense, but I am kind of desperate. So, if you're interested let me know.**


	22. Crash Course In Polite Conversation

-Chapter Twenty-Two-

The next month passed by rather uneventfully for Hermione, and everyone else at the school. Everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own drama, for once keeping their noses out of everyone elses. Her therepy had been upped to twice a week, rather than once. She had only lost one more pound, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She barely ate anymore and did as many situps, leg-lifts, and ab exercises as she possibly could, but her weight just stayed the same, and she was starting to get frantic.

Ginny was steadily gaining weight, as she neared her fifth month of pregnancy, and it was very rare for her to be seen without an attentive Harry at her side. It was sickeningly sweet, the way they held hands throughout dinner, or as they walked down the hall, whispering in each other's ears; Hermione always had to repress the urge to gag. The scandal hadn't been brought to attention yet, which was unusual, but Hermione was sure that it was only a matter of time; someone was bound to notice the awkward weight gain eventually, she couldn't hide in oversized robes forever.

Draco and Hermione completely avoided each other at all costs. If one walked into the common room and the other was doing their homework at the coffee table, the one doing homework would cough awkwardly, gather their things, and go up to their bedroom, letting the other have a chance to enjoy the fire. No words were exchanged, just the occasional gesture, head nod, or cleared throat. Ginny was the only friend that had stuck by Hermione during her days losing weight, and Hermione by Ginny during her days gaining it. However, Ginny had no idea about the therepy, Draco, or her crazy exercise regimen; Hermione had never shared that part of her life with anyone but Draco. Now that he was gone, she did it alone.

Easter was approaching quicker with each day. For some students this would mean taking the train home with their friends, getting to sleep in their own beds, maybe watching their younger siblings enjoy a bewitched easter egg hunt. For Hermione it meant taking Floo home alone, being grilled by her mother about her weight, going to therepy, and praying to God she wouldn't run into Robbie. But the biggest difference, the only one that mattered at all to Hermione, was that most of these students wouldn't be returning to their home for the first time since their father's funeral.

Needless to say, she was _not_ looking forward to this holiday.

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"You're worthless," the brunette spat at the reflection in the mirror. "You will never amount to anything. Nothing at all. Look at yourself, look at this fat! Why is it still here, Hermione? You disgust me."

Hermione turned away from the mirror and scanned her room. Belongings were tossed carelessly across her room, dirty clothes mixed with clean clothes that covered books upon books was all that could be seen. The perfectionist side of Hermione was starting to give out, making way for the new girl that was shoving her way in. She hadn't even begun packing, and her mother was expecting her to arive at three o'clock.

The girl glanced at her watch; three-fifteen. Being late had never killed anyone, had it? She carelessly grabbed her silver iPod off of her desk and treaded to plug it into the speakers that lately had taken the slot of Hermione's favorite possesion. It had taken weeks of research to find the correct spell to counteract Dumbledore's no electronics one. She scrolled through her playlist before finally choosing one of her favorites.

"I have to be done packing before this song is over," Hermione told herself, hitting play and turning the volume way up.

_What say you, Lord  
For the olive boys down in the house of corrections  
As they try for love and any form of ascension  
Am I on the right train headed in the wrong direction  
What say you, Lord  
What say you, Lord_

Hermione grabbed a few oversized T-shirts and tossed them into her small black suitcase. They would be usefull to sleep in, and would hide anything her parents wouldn't want to see.

_Am I living wrong  
Do you see a long road with no one on it  
And the right of men that you learnt only to forget  
You see my sad wife and my high margin of profit  
But you don't care at all  
You don't care  
At all_

Her hair fell in her face as she dug through the clothes on her once clean floor. Mindlessly grabbing the elastic from her wrist she threw her hair into a messy ponytail. She grabbed a pair of jeans that were once too tight, but now would fall to her ankles if it were not for her tiny belt. Those were tossed in too.

_What say you, Lord  
Now that they're breeding all our animals insane  
And the remedy is growing harder to obtain  
There's a white horse running wild through the switch-cane  
I can hear him now  
And I feel him_

Next were undergarmets. No bras, her breasts seemed to have disappeared with the layers of fat. Panties that were so small they looked as though they could fit a doll. She dumped some in.

_'Til Kingdom come  
Caught in this frenzy of elimination  
Such an irreparable disintegration  
My body's twitching with a ready expectation  
For Kingdom come  
My Kingdom  
Come_

Shoes. Where the hell were all of her shoes? She searched under her bed, nothing. She picked up random articles of clothing around the room, looking for shoes, one shoe, _anything_. She couldn't very well go barefoot, could she?

_What say you, Lord  
Why is the truth of this so hard to unveil?  
Though it's true I never knew what this would entail  
From the hands of Christ to the heads of the Daily Mail  
I'll see you all  
And I'll raise you_

There they were, under one of her school robes next to the bathroom door. Sighing in relief, she swiftly scooped them up and dumped them in the suitcase. What was she missing?

_Now what say you, all  
I wonder when the light is brought up for sale  
With the weight of love and the grace of the Baleen Whale  
Will the severed Heads of State be at all curtailed  
Will they be here at all -  
Will they be dead and gone?_

Just as Hermione was putting her toothbrush and make-up bag in, the door slammed open. To her great surprise, a pissed off looking Draco Malfoy was standing in her doorway. When he registered her standing there and took in the scene before his eyes, his expression changed to that of possible embarassment.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"That's quite all right," Hermione brushed him off.

"I-er, I just heard the music...," he began. "I thought you had left earlier, so I was just going to turn it off..."

"I was supposed to have left ages ago," Hermione mumbled angrily, more towards herself than the boy standing across from her.

"Then why haven't you?" he asked with his eyes narrowed.

"I'm running late," she spat back. "Why haven't you left?"

"My father isn't expecting me until five."

_What say you Lord  
Of the serpent-taled, forbidden fish of the harbours  
And the ready-men, defiant drinkers and charmers  
All lost and summoning in the face of their fathers  
Can you see them now?  
I can see 'em._

"Of course you're not allowed home until daddy calls you," Hermione said.

"Don't speak of things you do not have the intellegence to even begin to comprehend."

"_You're_ challenging _my_ intellegence? I know what I'm speaking of. I'm just not too sure you do."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asked, glaring at her.

"I mean that you're getting in over your head and you know it," she whispered.

Draco stared at her for a moment before speaking. "All I know is that it's really none of your business." He turned and left the room without another word, slamming the door behind him.

_What say you, all  
Do I believe it if I do not want it  
Do I lie alone and keeps my cold hands off it  
Honey, it ain't hard to loose your grip in the midst of all of this  
But it ain't far to fall  
It's not far at all  
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"I'm home," Hermione called half-heartedly into the living room, where she could hear the television blaring. She trudged unwillingly towards the noise and where she knew her mother would be found. "Mom?"

As she walked into the room room she saw her mother sprawled out across the couch, fast asleep. The entire room looked as though a small tornado had rushed through it. Hermione sighed and turned off the telly, letting herself fall into the couch cussions by her mother's feet.

"Welcome home," she whispered to herself.

Hermione did not let herself stay seated long. A few minutes later and she was up, grabbing bottles of water, bags of chips, and one particulary foul smelling half eaten bowl of soup up off of the small table in front of the couch and disposing of them. Next she got the small blanket that hung on the armchair and tossed it over her mother.

Finally she picked up her suitcase and lugged it upstairs. Hermione dropped it on her bed and unzipped it, carelessly dumping the contents to the floor, not caring at all. Next she pulled off her sweatpants and traded them from an old pair of skinny jeans from her closet, and a flimsy camisole tank top.

Just as she was about to pull a sweatshit on over it the doorbell rang. Hermione wondered briefly who the hell would be visiting them? The Granger house rarely had visitors when her father was alive...now that he was dead, nobody ever came over without pre-checking with her mother. As the doorbell rang a second time she remembered her mother asleep on the couch and raced down the stairs silently and to the door; her mother couldn't have been getting much sleep at night, and she definitely needed it.

Wrenching the door open, she realized she was still in only jeans and a tank-top and shuddered to think what she must look like. She really hoped this was nobody important.

"Hey...Hermione," the boy said as his eyes skidded over her.

"Robbie," she whispered. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to hide her bony body. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, heard about your dad..." Robbie said, his wide eyes still helplessly roaming her body, but not in the way a guy's eyes may usually roam. "I came to see if you maybe wanted to talk...or go for a walk or something."

"Uhmm.."

Suddenly his eyes snapped back up to her sunken face. "Oh, I mean, you don't have to. I know this must be extremely difficult...and I don't want to push you or anything."

"Actually, a walk might be nice. I could use the fresh air," Hermione finally said.

"Okay, cool," he smiled. "You, er, might want to grab a jumper or something...you may be a bit cold." His eyes suddenly looked darker, sadder.

Hermione looked down at her feet and nodded. "I'll be right back," she murmered.

She jogged up the stairs and into her room, heading straight over to her closet. She grabbed a green pullover sweatshirt and quietly made her way back downstairs, popping her head into the living room to make sure her mother was still asleep. When she finally stepped out onto the porch Robbie was sitting alone on one of the steps, his back hunched over and his head in his hands.

"Robbie?" she asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

The dark-haired boy's head shot up. "Sorry. You ready?"

Hermione nodded. "To the park?"

Robbie granted her a lopsided grin. "We wouldn't dare break tradition."

As their feet treaded the all too familiar path to the park the two walked in silence. It seemed almost ritual to do this, never to speak much until they were there, the park the only appropriate place for serious conversation. However, Hermione did notice him casting odd glances at her, which was new.

As they entered the metal gates, they automatically headed straight to the swings; _their_ place. Hermione dropped into hers and pushed off hard from the ground.

"So..." she said breathlessly. Little things seemed to take a lot out of her these days.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, but then seemed to regret it. "I mean... I'm sorry about your dad. He didn't deserve that. And neither did you and your mother."

"Yeah," Hermione replied shortly. She hadn't talked about this with anyone but Draco and it felt wrong doing it with someone else.

"So, how are you doing, Hermione?" Robbie said as he turned in his seat to look at her swinging form. "I have to be honest with you, you don't look too good. Healthy I mean.." he continuted quickly, realizing what he had just said, "you always look good...you just aren't looking too _healthy_."

"I'm not talking about this," Hermione said in a tone of voice Robbie had never heard before.

"But, Hermione-"

"No. I think I've had enough fresh air for one night. Goonight, Robbie," Hermione said cooly before skidding her swing to a stop and walking off into the darkness.  
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**A/N- Hey guys, sorry this chapter took a while. Reviews always help it go faster though!**


	23. The Worst Day Since Yesterday

-Chapter Twenty-Three-

Hermione slowly withdrew her keys from the back pocket of her jeans. She glanced down and selected the silver key, then slid it into the lock, jiggling it slightly until it opened. She silently walked over the threshold and shut the door with a small 'click'.

She continued into the living room, making as little noise as possible so that she would not wake her sleeping mother. But, to her surprise, when Hermione entered the spacious room her mother was sitting up on the couch, very much awake.

"Hello, Mum," Hermione greeted her mother awkwardly.

"Hi, dear!" Jane said in a peppy voice, entirely different from the one Hermione had expected. "Well, aren't you going to come give your mother a hug?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she made her way towards the older woman and wrapped her frail arms around her.

"Now, let's take a look at you," Her mother said pushing her away. Hermione stood by helplessly as her mother's eyes passed over her. "Take off that giant sweatshirt, I want to see you."

Hermione did as she was told and now stood in just her camisole tank top. "Mum..."

Hermione's mother 'tutted' quietly to herself. "No, no this will not do at all."

"What?" Hermione asked snidely.

"Go upstairs and get the scale from the bathroom," Jane instructed her.

"But, why?"

"Don't be difficult, Hermione," her mother said firmly. "Just do it."

"Fine," the brunette muttered before turning on her heel and striding out of the room and across the hall to the downstairs bathroom.

She opened the cabinet below the sink where a white digital scale was waiting. Grabbing it as though it had personally done something to offend her, she took the object to her mother, who placed it down in front of her.

"Get on it, then. What are you waiting for?" Hermione's mother asked as the younger girl just stood in front of the scale, staring down at it.

With a sigh, Hermione did as she was told and stepped onto the scale, watching the numbers flash below her. Finally, they settled on ninety. But that wasn't possible, was it? How on earth could she have _gained_ two pounds?! She closed her eyes as she stepped off the scale, shaking her head. Suddenly her mother got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the telephone from it's charger as she walked.

Maybe the scale was wrong, Hermione thought as she sat down on the couch, her mind whirling. She could vaguely hear her mother's voice in the kitchen as she talked on the phone, but couldn't make out what she was saying.

Finally, her mother rejoined her in the living room, sitting very close to her daughter and looking right at her.

"Dear, you're going to the doctors tomorrow," she said.

"Why?" Hermione asked, glaring at her mother.

"Hermione, you know why."

"No, I obviously don't or I wouldn't be asking. So do tell, why am I being forced to go to _another_ doctor?"

"You're supposed to be gaining weight, Hermione, not losing it," Jane told her harshly. "That's what the therapy is for."

"That man's a crack!" Hermione exclaimed. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. Most of the hour goes by in silence, you know. I don't know why you're bothering to pay him to sit in a room with me for sixty minutes."

"He's trying to help you, dear," her mother softly said. "If you'd just be more open…let him in, and then maybe you could start to get better."

"Mum, I'm _fine_! There is nothing to get better from!" Hermione shouted. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"No, Hermione I'm not done talk-"was all Hermione heard from her mother before she was out of the room and the voice had faded.

The brunette wandered upstairs and into her room, falling on her bed in exhaustion. She hadn't even changed out of her jeans and she was already asleep.

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The next morning Hermione was awakened to someone gently shaking her shoulder.

"Hermione?" her mother asked cautiously. "Hermione, dear, it's time to get up. Your appointment is at twelve o'clock."

Hermione groaned and rolled over to face her mother. "And what time is it now?"

Jane glanced at Hermione's digital clock that sat on the nightstand on the other side of her daughter. "Eleven on the dot."

"And what time are we leaving?" Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes hopelessly.

"Eleven thirty."

"Oh thanks for giving me time to shower, Mum," the brunette shouted while sitting up and sliding on a pair of red slippers.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I guess I just figured you'd be up in time on your own…," the older woman said with a frown. "Usually you're up at the crack of dawn."

"No, I think that's you. Teenagers do enjoy their sleep, you know."

"All right, dear, I'm sorry. You'll be down in thirty minutes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It appears I have no choice."

Her mother nodded briskly before leaving her daughter alone in her room. Hermione sighed heavily and trailed her mother out of her room, but rather than following Jane downstairs, walked down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her.

She switched the radio onto a station she used to regularly listen to before she went to Hogwarts, but now couldn't recognize the song they were playing. Ignoring this fact, she turned on the water so that it was steaming hot, and pulled off her clothes before stepping in.

Hermione didn't allow herself to linger in the shower, enjoying the feel of the warm water against her sore muscles as she usually would have. Thanks to her mother, she only had about fifteen minutes before they had to leave. She unwillingly got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around herself, and turned off the radio before leaving the bathroom and padding back to her own room, shivering against the cold air.

Once there, she closed her door and dropped the towel, pulling on a pair of underwear and a tank top with a built in bra- not that she needed it. Next, she pulled a T-shirt over her head and a pair of black sweatpants up her legs. Over the T-shirt she put on a thin sweater, and then a much heavier sweatshirt, and lastly a plain pair of white socks.

Looking in the mirror she was disgusted with the way the bundles of clothes made her look, but they were necessary for two reasons. One, to keep her warm; no matter how hard she tried she could never manage to get rid of the goose bumps that seemed permanently attached to her arms. Two, she was bound to be weighed when she got to the doctors, and these clothes would be sure to add a few pounds.

It was now eleven twenty-eight, so Hermione grabbed a plain pair of white running shoes and walked downstairs, sliding the shoes on at the bottom of the staircase. "Mum!" she called out loudly.

"I'm coming, I just need to find my keys," Jane shouted back.

"In your coat pocket," Hermione mumbled, so that her mother couldn't hear her.

"Oh! Found them," she called out triumphantly, finally appearing in the hall, her coat in one hand, keys in the other. "They were in my pocket," she laughed.

Hermione shook her head and opened the front door. "Imagine that," she muttered.

The two easily walked down the front walkway and climbed into the car that awaited them in the driveway. The twenty minute ride felt more like forty to Hermione, the silence in the car painfully obvious the entire time. There were time when Jane would take a stab at conversation, but when Hermione only provided one-word, or worse, no answer the older woman eventually gave up completely.

Finally they reached Hermione's doctor's office and Hermione trudged through the doors, immediately going to sit in the waiting area, leaving her mother to deal with the front desk alone. Eventually her mother joined her, but Hermione paid no mind to the woman.

Ten minutes later a plump nurse with a familiar face appeared in the doorway. "Hermione Granger?" she called out, glancing between Hermione and the only other girl in the room.

Hermione stood up and walked across the room to the nurse, her mother's heels clacking behind her.

"Right this way, dear," the fat nurse said, leading the other two woman down a long white hallway before opening the door to a room that was painted a dark blue and obviously decorated to represent outerspace. "Doctor Isenson will be with you shortly," the lady said before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

"Well, this is nice," Hermione's mother said, glancing around the room.

"Sure, if you're six," Hermione replied bitterly.

They sat in silence for five minutes before the doctor finally knocked on the door and entered.

"Good afternoon," he said with a bright smile.

"Hello," Hermione's mother smiled in return.

"So, what brings you two in here today?" the man asked kindly, the stupid grin still in place.

"Well, if you remember, we saw you a few months ago while Hermione was on Christmas break about her weight being too low. Since then, Hermione has collapsed, been hospitalized, and diagnosed with anorexia," Jane said quickly, as if she had already planned out what she was going to say. "After getting out of the hospital Hermione went back to her boarding school and has been having weekly visits with a psychiatrist. I had thought that would be enough, but apparently she is still losing weight and I'm pretty much at the end of my rope..." the mother shrugged helplessly.

Dr. Isenson nodded absently, appearing deep in thought. "Mhm..." he muttered, before blinking once and focusing in on Hermione. "Well then, let's get you weighed," he said, standing up from his wooden chair.

Hermione inwardly groaned as she followed the doctor back down the long hallway and into a small room with only a counter and a scale. Doctor Isenson stood beside it, so Hermione slid off her shoes and made to step on.

"Just a second," the doctor said, looking at Hermione with narrowed eyes. "If you could, I have to ask you to remove your sweatshirt. We want to have an accurate weight."

Hermione felt rage build inside of her, but reached down and pulled the heavy sweatshirt over her head as she was told.

The doctor looked her over again. "Your sweater too, please."

This time Hermione objected. "Why? It couldn't even weigh a pound."

"Hermione, just do what the doctor asked you to, please," Jane said from the side of the room.

"Fine," her daughter answered, ripping the sweatshirt off of her petite frame.

Finally, Hermione looked at the doctor with wide, annoyed eyes, as if to ask "are you done torturing me, then?" and stepped onto the scale. Doctor Isenson fiddled with the weights for a moment, before finally looking satisfied with an even ninety.

"All right, Hermione, you can get down," he told her. "Why don't we go back to the room?" the doctor asked, gesturing for Mrs. Granger to lead the way.

Once they were securely back into the examination room, Doctor Isenson shut the door and turned to look at Hermione's mother. "Mrs. Granger, have you ever considered checking your daughter into a recovery facility? Somewhere with teenagers her age, who also suffer from eating disorders?"

Jane's eyes widened slightly. "Well, no, not really. It wouldn't exactly be possible anyways, with her going to boarding school and all."

"Mrs. Granger, what is more important to you; your daughter's health, or that she gets an above average education? Children do attend classes in these facilities, I assure you Hermione would still be learning," the doctor said, his eyes boring into Hermione's mother.

As the doctor spoke Hermione was sure her mouth had fallen open and her eyes were gaping. Leave Hogwarts to be checked into some psych ward? How could her mother even be _considering_ this? Didn't she understand how important school was to her, how hard she had worked to be first in her year?

"Yes, I suppose we're getting to the point where there's not a lot of options, she's flat out refusing to gain weight," Hermione heard her mother say.

"So I'm assuming this is something you would like me to look into for you?" Doctor Isenson was asking.

"I'm not leaving school!" Hermione heard herself shout. "There is absolutely _no_ way I am leaving school!"

"Hermione, dear, be resonable. You put yourself into this position," Jane addressed her daughter.

"I did not put myself in any position! So I lost a bit of weight, SO WHAT?!" Hermione did not care one bit that she was having a breakdown in the middle of her doctor's office, there was no way this was happening.

"Hermione this is not negotiable. You are underage, and my responsibility. You are going to be checked into a facility as soon as possible," her mother said, in the most frightening tone Hermione had ever heard her use.

"No. I won't go."

"Hermione, it really has to be done," the doctor said, his tone obnoxiously soothing. "Your heart rate is too slow, your weight too low, anything could go wrong at any given moment."

Hermione mutely shook her head, the weight of what was happening was more than she knew how to deal with. They were taking away Hogwarts. They were taking away her home, her friends. They were taking away Draco.

She could distantly hear her mother and the doctor talking, but it didn't seem real. It felt as though this were happening to someone else, not her, not Hermione Granger. These things simply didn't happen to Hermione Granger.

"I'll make a few calls and see what I can do," Doctor Isenson was saying. "Hopefully we can have her in a suitable place by this time next week. I'll give you a call within the next couple days to let you know what's happening."

"Okay. Thank you very much, doctor." Jane was shaking his hand. "Hermione?" she asked, looking at her daughter with concern. "Let's go."

Hermione rose to her feet, and obediantly followed her mother out the door, not returning her doctor's goodbye. That man had ended her life as she knew it; everything from here on out would no longer be in her hands.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N- Reviews, as always, are appreciated.**

_**Preview**_

The brunette tossed the green hairbrush back onto Tana's bed and walked over to her small dresser. She pulled on a pair of plain blue jeans and a nice sweater, not even bothering to look in the mirror at her appearance before she exited her room. She wandered down the brightly lite hallway to the spacious room where a large sign read 'Visitors.'

Hermione glanced around for her mother's familiar brown bob, but couldn't find it. Instead, in the corner where her mother had sat the previous Sunday, an all too familiar head of blonde hair was waiting instead, and his piercing grey eyes were staring right at her.


	24. I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness

-Chapter Twenty-Four-

Her life was over. No doubt it sounded pathetic, possibly even melodramatic; but there it was. In one day's time Hermione Granger would no longer be a brave Gryffindor. No, Hermione Granger would soon become a resident of the Renfrew Center , a widely known center that focused on adolescents with eating disorders.

She had one day left to pack –which she had avoided until the last possible minute- and tie up any loose ends that she felt needed to be tied up. The only one that came to mind was Draco. But, how exactly was one supposed to do that? In a letter? The blonde was already back at school, no doubt wondering where on earth Hermione was, but neither had bothered to make contact with one another since they departed right before Easter. That end was better left untied.

"Hermione, dear?" her mother called, entering her daughter's room without knocking.

"What, Mum?" Hermione asked, blankly staring through the woman.

Jane looked at Hermione's empty suitcase. "I just wanted to make sure you were packing…" she said. "Which you aren't."

"I have plenty of time."

"No, Hermione," said her mother, "you really don't. We are leaving quite early tomorrow morning, so I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped this pathetic moping and kicked it into gear."

"Moping?" Hermione challenged, raising her eyebrows. "I would hardly call sitting on my bed with a book _moping_."

"All right then," Jane agreed easily, not wishing to upset her daughter. "Just please get a move on with the packing, we really shouldn't be late tomorrow."

"Fine," Hermione said as her mother excused herself from her daughter's room, leaving her alone with the silence that followed.

For the first time in years, Hermione wished that she had allowed her mother to put a television in her room when they redid it. As much as she was completely opposed to the idea of television, and viewed it as simply an excuse for those who disliked reading to plant their butts in a comfortable chair and let the colorful screen brainwash them, Hermione wanted anything to interrupt the silence of the room.

However, she supposed that she should get used to silence, considering where she was headed tomorrow. The Renfrew Center. In her mind, Hermione pictured it as a large building with white walls, floors, and furniture where teenagers sat in their rooms for hours, unless they were being forced into more therapy sessions or stuffing their obese faces with food dripping fat.

With a sigh, Hermione walked over to the desk by her window, flipping the table lap on as she sat down. There were two letters sitting in front of her that had arrived earlier this morning, but she had not felt up to reading, much less responding to. The first she could tell was from Harry, his familiar scrawl clear on the front of the envelope that she knew held a parchment full of questions. The next, Hermione had no idea who it was from. There was no name written on it, and it was delivered by an unfamiliar owl, but not one of Hogwarts'. She had a guess as to who may have written it, but was the idea of confirming her suspicions was not particularly appealing.

Hermione grabbed the first letter and ripped it open quickly, and tossing the envelope in the rubbish bin next to her desk. Only then did she give the letter a read.

_Hermione,_

_This isn't a letter to nag you to talk to us, or get you to tell us everything you have been hiding from myself and Ron the past few months, so it is safe to keep reading, you know. Ron and I have been honestly concerned about you, and now you haven't returned to school. We don't know what to think or believe at this point; there are rumors going around that you __**died**__, Hermione. We know that is not the truth, as Dumbledore informed us you were going to be okay in time, and to let you come to us on your own. Not that that helped much, other than to confirm that you were indeed still alive. _

_I think we've gotten off track. The point of this letter, Hermione, is to let you know that we are your best friends. That we love you regardless of whether you won't talk to us, or that you do talk to Malfoy of all people. We will always be here for you, even if it takes years. Our friendship has always been more than this, we have always confided everything in each other, but something happened along the way, and somehow we have you convinced that you can't trust us, but you can Hermione, you always can. _

_I hope you'll decide to write us back, but if you don't, Ron and I will understand. We love you, Hermione, don't you ever forget that._

_Ron & Harry_

Hermione looked up from her letter, blinking harshly. She wasn't crying, no, that was no longer allowed, but she was closer than she'd been in a long time. She decided she'd write them back, if only to confirm that she was indeed alive, even if it were by the skin of her teeth.

_Ron and Harry,_

_Thank you for your concern. I'm okay. I have to go away for a while, but I'll be back eventually- I hope you know me well enough to believe that I can't be kept away from school for long. I know I can confide in the two of you, it's just too soon. I will though, at some point, I promise. Don't doubt my love for the both of you, it's too strong for that._

_Regards,  
Hermione_

Settling with that letter, she sealed it, wrote the boys' names on the front and put it in the corner of her desk. She would only send it off with Tup after she read the second one, as the response to that one may be going to Hogwarts as well. She gently lifted the next letter off her desk and pulled it open. There was no greeting.

_I know where you are going tomorrow. I hope you find the help you so desperately need there; I fear it is our last hope. You can beat this, Hermione. We both know that, now you just have to start believing it. I look forward to your return to school, your presence in our quarters will be sorely missed._

_Draco_

Hermione grabbed another piece of parchment and picked up her quill, writing only three words to Draco.

_I love you._

She folded the paper and wrote _Draco_ on the front. Only then did she lure Tup out of his cage and tie the two letters to each of his feet and allow him to take flight in the direction of Hogwarts.

--

The Granger's car pulled onto a long, winding road that lead to a large parking lot. Hermione peered out her window at where she would be staying for Merlin knows how long. It was a large building, two floors, it appeared, with an entrance that reminded her of a hospital.

"Ready?" Jane asked as she opened her door and climbed out of the car, stretching her legs from the long drive.

Hermione didn't answer, but she too got out of the car and opened the door to the backseat where her suitcase and travel bag lay waiting. She pulled out her travel bag and handed it to her mother, taking the suitcase herself.

Hermione slammed the car door. "Let's go. We're late."

The two walked silently up to the entrance, which had automatic doors, and straight over to the front desk. Hermione decided the next twenty minutes or so would be paperwork for her mother, so she walked a few feet away to what seemed to be a small waiting area. She pulled out a book and ignored her mother when she took a seat beside her, a clipboard full of forms in her hand.

About ten minutes after Jane had turned all the forms in to the front desk, a tall, thin woman approached Hermione and her mother.

"Hello, you must be Hermione Granger," she said in a kind voice, sticking out her hand.

Hermione hesitantly shook it. "Yes, I am."

"And this is your mother?"

"Yes, I'm Jane," her mother said, also shaking the woman's hand.

"Great," she said with a sincere smile, as if this news genuinely pleased her. "I'm Susan Hardwin, and I run the Renfrew Center. You most likely won't be seeing me much," she was only speaking to Hermione now, "only in serious cases. And I'm sure we won't be having any trouble from you, right dear?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed in distaste. "Of course not."

"Great," Susan said, her smile widening. "Well let's get you settled into your room, then."

Hermione nodded and she and her mother followed Susan Hardwin up to a large staircase, climbing it quickly to reach the resident's part of the center. The change in the building was immediate up here, Hermione noticed. Everything was more homely; there was carpeting rather than white marble floor, and deep blue wallpapered walls. A nurse's station was up ahead where a bored-looking nurse was flipping through a Muggle magazine Hermione didn't recognize.

"Okay, so this hallway here leads to the girl's wing, and the hallway to the left leads to the boy's," Susan explained to Jane and Hermione. Hermione lifted her head in interest at the word "boys". "As you can see, there is a nurse's station right where the hallways meet, so there will be no boys in the ladies rooms, and vice versa."

Jane nodded, smiling gently. "Good."

"Now, follow me to your room. I believe Tana should be back from group by now, I know she was anxious to meet you," the older woman was saying to Hermione, who just nodded.

They continued down the girls hall a few paces, before reaching a dark wood door that had a large, colorful sign on it, (obviously done by a teenager's hand) that read "Tana and Hermione." Hermione winced at this, though she didn't know why. Susan rapped quickly on the door.

"Come in," was called from inside.

She opened the door and walked into the room, Hermione and her mother following in her footsteps.

The room was modest in size, with one bed on either side of it. There was a pink throw carpet across the middle of the floor that was otherwise hardwood, and two closets; one for either girl. On the bed closest to the window a tiny girl about Hermione's age sat, writing in a small blue notebook. The girl had strawberry blonde hair, and what would be considered a 'nice' figure. It made Hermione happier to know that she weighed less than her roommate.

The girl got up off the bed, and smiled widely, coming across the room to greet them. "Hey, you're Hermione, right?" she asked.

"Yes. And you must be Tana," Hermione said, not gracing the girl with a return smile.

Susan Hardwin cleared her throat loudly. "Well, I must be going, it's a very busy day. And, I'm sorry to say, your mother must be going as well- we have a very strict visiting schedule, and today isn't visiting day. Tomorrow, Sunday, is the visiting day that we have set. If you are to have a visitor they must register at the front desk, and then will be sent to the visiting room. It is every Sunday from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m.. I really hope that you'll be joining us tomorrow, Mrs. Granger."

Jane nodded distractedly. "Will Hermione be able to call me?"

"They get one phone call a day, to whomever they want. So, yes, if Hermione chooses to, she can call you once a day."

"All right." Jane walked over to Hermione and wrapped her arms around her. "Bye, dear. I'm going to miss you."

"You too, Mom. You too."

--

The next morning Hermione woke up with a pounding headache. After her mother had left the day before, she had been forced to make polite chit chat with Tana, before a Nurse's Aid came in to explain all the rules and regulations of the Renfrew Center. It had then been time to go to bed, and it had taken hours for Hermione to finally be able to fall asleep in this strange new place.

She stretched, and pulled her tired body out of the bed, and looked to Tana's bed, where the girl was already up and reading.

"Good morning," Tana said when she saw Hermione sit up. "You sure slept late. You're lucky, though, they let you because it's your first day and your sessions don't begin until tomorrow. I've already went through individual _and_ group," she went on. "We're expected to be down in the vistor's room in twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes?" Hermione echoed hoarsly.

"Yep. I was just about to wake you up. I'm going to go down there now."

"Uhm, okay," Hermione said, trying to force her mind to catch up. "Can you lend me a hairbrush, I don't have time to dig mine out."

Tana smiled. "Of course," she said. She got up and grabbed a green hairbrush off of her bureau. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you back here after this is over," she said, before rolling her eyes good-naturedly and leaving the room.

Hermione yawned and forced her legs out of the warm blankets, so she was sitting more comfortably, and pulled the brush through her hair. The brunette then tossed the green hairbrush back onto Tana's bed and walked over to her small dresser. She pulled on a pair of plain blue jeans and a nice sweater, not even bothering to look in the mirror at her appearance before she exited her room. She wandered down the brightly lit hallway to the spacious room where a large sign read 'Visitors.'

Hermione glanced around for her mother's familiar brown bob, but couldn't find it. Instead, in the very corner of the large room, an all too familiar head of blonde hair was waiting instead, and his piercing grey eyes were staring right at her.

After a brief moment in which Hermione gasped to regain her normal breathing pattern, she calmly felt her expression of surprise fade away to the numb feeling she had become more accustomed to. She pulled her sweater down a bit to rid it of the creases, squared her shoulders and walked straight towards Draco Malfoy.

--

**A/N- Hey guys. Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter, you didn't do too bad number wise. ;  
I know this chapter isn't one of my best, but it's really just a filler, so bear with me.  
Please review and let me know what you think.**


	25. Author's Note!

**Sorry for the long wait, I decided I wasn't even going to begin writing chapter 25 until I hit 300 reviews, which I did this morning. I've written a bit today, and will be writing more tonight and tomorrow.**

Chapter 25 should be up sometime tomorrow, probably around 9-10 p.m.

_Sorry to all of you that got your hopes up and thought this author's note was a new chapter. Soon enough._


	26. Locked Hearts And Hand Grenades

-Chapter Twenty-Five-

Draco POV (_Flashback_)

Draco opened his eyes as he tried to regain a normal breathing pattern that followed aparation. He stared darkly at Malfoy Manor, which was sprawled out across his view. He began to stride down the winding gravel path that lead to his front door, his brow creasing more with each step he took toward his home, his duty, his future.

_You're getting in over your head and you know it._

The words in his head, in Hermione's soft tone, were as clear as if she were standing right next to him, whispering them darkly in his ear. They wouldn't have bothered him so much if he hadn't known she was right, that they were true. If he hadn't known what was to happen the very next night, what ceremony he would be forced to take part in. If he hadn't known that after tomorrow night he would never be able to allow himself to think of her the same way again. But he did know, and so he pushed the words out of his head and continued up the path.

--

Hermione stood behind the chair opposite Draco, staring at him incredulously. She took in his appearance. Physically, he looked exactly the same, except one thing. Draco's eyes were not the eyes she left the day before Easter break. No, those eyes were still warm, still held hope. These new eyes were dark and angry, not Draco's eyes, Lucius' eyes. Eyes she would recognize anywhere.

"Are you planning on sitting down, Granger?" he asked, those eyes baring into her.

"Maybe," she responded, still studying him closely. "Are you planning on telling me why you're here?"

"Maybe." He nodded to the chair in front of her and Hermione took her seat.

"Well?" she asked after a moment of silence. Then, when he didn't respond, softer, "Did you get my letter?"

The eyes narrowed, taking Hermione aback. "Yes. The letter should never have been sent."

Hermione's head tilted to the side in confusion, then understanding. "Oh. I see. Well, I suppose it's only natural that you move on, I mean who knows how long I'll be in here…or if I'll even be the same girl you knew when I get out…"

"I haven't moved on," he said, and Hermione's head shot up. She saw a brief flash of the old warmness, but then nothing, back to hard silver. "But we both must try."

Hermione looked up at him, confusion etched onto her thin face. "But, your letter…it seemed as though you wanted the same things I did, I _do_."

"That letter was a mistake as well," he replied, clearing his throat. "Things have changed, I have responsibilities now. Responsibilities I didn't have before."

Hermione was still confused. New responsibilities? How many new responsibilities can you get in one day? What on earth could Draco be talking about? "Draco, I don't understand."

He visibly flinched at her words, anger flashing briefly in his eyes. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what? Draco? None of this is making sense."

"Yes, Draco. Don't call me that; not anymore."

"Why?" Hermione demanded. "What happened to you?"

The blonde stared at her intently for a moment, before finally answering. "You already know."

Hermione was shaking her head. "What? No I-" But then she realized she _did_ know. She has known for a while, in the back of her mind. A very unwilling part of her had always known it was coming, that it was completely unavoidable. "No," she said at last.

"Yes," he answered, his tone firm. "I see no point in hiding it from you, you were bound to figure it out sooner or later. I'm sure you now see why you can't refer to me by my first name, why it would be better, in fact, for you not to refer to me at all."

"Have you utterly lost your mind?!" Hermione exploded, anger boiling her blood. "How on earth could you-"

"Stop, Granger," Draco said coldly, those eyes flashing. "Stop before you say something stupid. You know how, and why. I refuse to sit here and listen to your petty questions."

"Then why did you come?" she demanded. "You must have known I'd ask 'petty questions'. Why would you come and subject yourself to that?"

"Because you have a right to know."

"Do I?" Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "You didn't seem to feel that way in the week or so before we left for break."

"You weren't exactly thrilled with me either, Granger. Don't call me out as the bad guy, we both had our wrongs. But none of that matters anymore, none of that _can_ matter anymore, do you understand?" Draco asked, silver eyes glaring into chocolate.

Hermione stared at him for a long moment before answering. "Yes, I understand, Malfoy. I guess we have both drawn our lines, taken our sides. Now we just have to let the cards fall where they may."

"I'm glad you understand. I thought this was going to be much more difficult than it was." He paused, then tossed his head so a stray piece of blond hair was pushed out of his face. "At least we made it without anyone finding us out," he said, even while his mind strayed to Potter, the probing questions, his accusation filled eyes.

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Hermione said stiffly. "No harm, no foul."

Draco laughed harshly, gesturing with his hands to the room they were both sitting it, the building they were both occupying. "Oh, there was harm, Granger. And I have no doubt there will be far more before any of this is said and done." He stood up, the metal chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor beneath his feet.

Hermione did the same, inwardly forcing herself to keep her breathing steady. "Dra- Malfoy? Could you possibly do me a favor? For old times sake?" she found herself asking.

Draco shrugged. "Depends."

"I would like a visit from Harry… and Ron I suppose, if neccissary. Somehow I doubt Harry'd be able to escape alone."

The blonde didn't seem to like this favor, his eyes narrowed quickly. "I'll see what I can do. But I make you no promises, Granger."

"That's fine," Hermione said with a dismissive toss of her hand. Then, as the boy retreated towards the exit, "You didn't have to do this you know. You didn't have to become this. You had a choice."

Lucius' eyes flashed cold and hard, a picture of what, or who, he had become. "Not everyone has a choice, Granger. There's always more," he said, nodding to the room again, before turning and striding out the exit.

--

Hermione trudged slowly back to her assigned room, half hoping Tana wouldn't be there so she could process her thoughts in peace. As she pushed open her door, taking a moment to again take in the colorful 'Hermione and Tana' sign, she realized she would have no such luck. Tana was seated on her twin size bed, knitting quietly.

The strawberry blonde looked up when Hermione fell onto her bed with a huge sigh.

"That good, huh?" Tana asked sympethatically.

Hermione groaned. "Worse."

Tana laughed lightly. "Don't worry, it should get better. It did for me anyway. The first few visits were hell, all 'Why did you do this to yourself, Tana'? But soon they just learn to drop it."

"It wasn't that type of stuff, strangely enough."

"Really? Well, who did you have visiting? Surely not a parent, if you didn't even talk about the anorexia."

"I'm not anorexic," Hermione said defiantly.

Tana looked up at Hermione and smiled sadly. "Hun, if you're here, and you look like that, you are totally anorexic."

Hermione shrugged and looked away awkwardly. "To answer your question, no it wasn't a parent."

"Who was it then?" Tana asked, looking eager, but then seemed to realize something. "Or, you don't have to tell me. I mean, it's really none of my business. Oh god, I've been trying to work on my nosiness. Sometimes I come across as overbearing."

Hermione laughed. "It was…a friend? I don't know what he is really. Nothing now, I suppose."

"_HE?_" Tana squealed. "You're here one day and you already have guys visiting you?"

"Oh, he won't be back. And I certainly wasn't expecting him," Hermione explained.

Tana's eyes widdened. "Oh god, he wasn't the totally gorgeous blonde was he?" Then, when Hermione didn't answer, "He was, wasn't he!"

"He was blonde," Hermione supplied halfheartidly.

"And totally gorgeous! Don't tell me he's an ex boyfriend, or I'll have to kill you."

"Something like that…"

"Hermione," Tana said shaking her head, "you are a total and complete idiot."

Hermione frowned at her words, "I know."

--

Draco Malfoy was very unhappy. This was the second time in one year he was looking for Harry freaking Potter, willingly. It was pathetic. All this for a girl he wouldn't even care about in five years. Or at least he hoped.

Draco's eyes scanned the Great Hall quickly, hoping to just get this over with. Finally they settled on the Gryffindor table, but there was only one redhead seated there, and no sign of her brother or Potter. Sighing, he walked over to Ginny Weasley.

He tapped her on the back of the head, and looked pleased when she stared up at him in surprise. "How's the pregnancy?" he asked, a mocking grin plastered to his face.

She looked startled, "What?"

"You know; the little bun in the oven?" Draco looked at her as if she were dense.

"I know what you're talking about, Malfoy," Ginny spat. "But how the hell did you know?"

"Are you serious? The entire school knows. If you weren't pregnant, Weasley, someone would be sending you to fat camp right about now."

"Shove it," Ginny muttered, staring down at her rather large stomach. "Nobody has said anything…"

"Maybe they're too frightened of the father. Word is he's unstable," Draco smirked.

"Malfoy, get to the point. You must have had a _reason_ for bothering me."

"I was actually looking for that unstable boyfriend of yours," Draco said.

Ginny frowned. "Why?" she demanded.

"Now that, my little Weaselette, is none of your business. Just direct me his way. I promise not to harm him. Much."

"He's in the library," Ginny said unwillingly. "But why do you need him? Does it have to do with Hermione?"

"Not at all. I'm just in search of a little unstableness," Draco smiled, turning his heel on the confused younger girl.

--

"Hermione, you have a phone call," the young blonde nurse who had just entered Hermione and Tana's room called out, pointing at the brunette.

"Okay," Hermione said, placing her book down and getting up to follow the woman, wondering who would be calling her.

The nurse led her down the hall to a small, windowless room that had one pay phone and a hard, plastic chair. "You have five minutes."

Hermione nodded and crossed the room, vaguely registering the nurse closing the door as she left. She picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hello, dear," Hermione's mother's voice filled her ears warmly.

"Hey, Mum," she replied.

"How are you? The place isn't too dreadful, is it?" Jane asked, hints of worry noticeable in her voice.

"No, I suppose it isn't too bad…" Hermione supplied.

"Good, good. I'm terribly sorry I wasn't there today, Hermione. Draco came by the house right before I was going to leave. He said he had permission from Dumbledore to visit you, and he really felt it had to be today."

"That's fine, Mum. It was… nice to see him. There were some things we had to discuss. I'll be seeing you next Sunday though, right?" Hermione asked, sounding hopeful.

"Yes, of course!"

"Okay, good. I miss you, you know? It's different than when I'm away at school. Here, it's painfully obvious how far away you are."

"I'm sorry, dear. I really am. For all of this."

"Mum, don't. I'm not having this conversation with you now, and especially not over the phone," Hermione groaned.

"Okay. I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news, though."

Dread instantly filled Hermione. "What is it?"

"I talked to our insurance company today… they said the coverage we have will only be able to last you three weeks," Jane said slowly. "I checked our accounts right after, and we simply don't have enough to pay for it on our own. It seems that in three weeks you're going to have to come home."

Hermione smiled brightly, glad there was nobody else in the room to witness it. She tried to put on her best disappointed voice, "Oh, that's too bad, Mum. I guess I'll just have to do the best in these three weeks that I can."

"That's my girl," her mother said in her ear. "Do your best. I couldn't ask for more. I love you, dear."

"I love you too, Mum. I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye, hon," Hermione heard, and then the distinct click of a phone being put down.

She only had to last three solid weeks in this place. Three weeks and she was free.

--

Draco pulled out the chair to the table where Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley were currently pouring over books, none of which he could see the titles to.

"Potter," he stated as he sat down.

"Malfoy," Harry nodded in return, glancing at the Slytherin in suspicion. "What do you want?"

"I saw Granger today," Draco said simply, cutting right to the chase. "She wants to see you."

"Us?" Harry asked, frowning.

"No." Draco shot at look at Ron, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout the conversation. "You."

"What about me?" Ron asked, his face indignant. "Why the bloody hell can't I go?"

"Don't shoot the messenger. I'm just here on Granger's wishes. A parting gift, if you will."

Harry's eyes narrowed quickly. What did that mean? "Fine, Malfoy. How exactly am I supposed to see her? I don't exactly know where she is."

"Don't you? Your precious Dumbledore hasn't told you all about it yet? There's a surprise. Dumbledore entrusting more information in me than you."

"Malfoy, I'm warning you…"

"Ask him. But you won't be able to see her until next Sunday's visiting hours, I'm afraid," Draco smirked.

"Visiting hours?" Harry demanded. "Malfoy, where the hell is she?"

"That, I can not tell you. You'll see soon enough, Potter."

--

**A/N- Sorry for the wait. I've been busy. Hope this chapter was worth it. Reviews are lovely and always appreciated. I tend to wait until I get sufficient amount of reviews before I even begin the next chapter…so the more reviews, the quicker the update.**

**Thanks to all of you that did review.**


	27. You've Dug Your Own Grave, Now Lie In It

**A/N- Great job on the reviews, I was so pleased by the amount last chapter. This ones kind of short, sorry. But at the end there's a surprise preview.**

-Chapter Twenty-Six-

Harry Potter knocked three quick times on the Headmaster's door, and waited to gain entrance.

"You may enter, Harry," Dumbledore called out from the other side of the door.

Harry swiftly entered the room, closing the wooden door softly behind him before making his way over to one of the squishy armchairs that sat opposite his mentor's desk.

"Good afternoon," Dumbledore said politely, obviously intending for Harry to tell him why he was here.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry said. He fidgeted, the nervous energy building up in him.

"Was there something in particular you wished to discuss this afternoon?" the older man asked, not unpleasantly.

"Er- yes," said Harry, glancing around the room. "It's about Hermione, actually. I know you've told me that it's her business and that she'd tell me where she was and what was going on when she was ready…but I spoke to Malfoy a few days ago, and he says she wishes to see me."

To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "Yes, I have heard that Miss Granger wanted a few words with you. Of course I can't see why that would be a problem."

Harry smiled in relief. "Really? Thank you, professor," he said. "Malfoy said I had to wait until her next visiting day? When is that?"

"I believe Hermione is allowed visitors on Sundays. I can make arrangements for you to Floo to a Wizarding pub down the road from where Hermione is staying."

"Sorry, Sir, but why can't I just Floo directly to where she is?" Harry asked, confused.

"I'm afraid Hermione's staying at a Muggle facility, which means you'll have to arrive in Muggle fashion. I trust you still have plenty of clothes that won't be too conspicuous?" Dumbledore added.

That was it. At the words 'Muggle facility,' Harry knew exactly what type of place his best friend was in. She was in treatment for her eating disorder, of course. He wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of that sooner. But for her to be taken out of school must mean it was out of control. But the real question was, how bad was out of control?

"Y-yeah… I have plenty of Muggle clothes," Harry managed to spit out, his brain still working quickly in his head.

"Good, good. Then you may go see Miss Granger in three days time."

"Okay. Thank you, Professor," Harry said, standing up and retreating out the door, shutting it behind him.

"God, Hermione. What've you done now?" He said to himself before starting back towards Gryffindor Tower.

--

To say that Hermione Granger was angry would be an understatement. No, she was more along the lines of furious, wrathful, livid, and _completely_ pissed off.

"I simply can not put up with this for another day!" Hermione raged, ripping off her sweater as she yelled and tossing it carelessly on the floor. "It's an outrage, them treating us like bloody _criminals_!"

Tana looked at her friend and nodded helplessly. "Yes, I suppose they _do _treat us kind of unfairly…"

"UNFAIRLY?!" screeched Hermione. "No, unfairly is the way they treat monkeys in a zoo! We're treated worse than that! Isn't the fact that we have to eat the whole damn meal they put in front of us bad enough? Is it honestly necessary to check under our fucking _fingernails_ before we leave the room? Like we would really scrape butter under there! We're not that out of control!"

"You'd be surprised…" Tana tried weakly.

Hermione interrupted her roommate, "And how on earth would we be able to hide food in our _hair_?! They sit in the damn room with us while we eat, don't you think they'd notice that while we were doing it, not after?!"

"Well, I guess…"

"And the cameras in the _bathroom_! Can't they just stick someone outside it to hear if we're puking our meals out? For all we know there are guys sitting in some little room down the hall watching us pee!"

At that Tana burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"What?" Hermione demanded. Tana just continued to laugh. "What?" Hermione repeated.

"Hermione," Tana managed to get out. "I don't know what I did before you got here."

Hermione considered this for a moment. "Me neither," she finally grinned, before joining in on the girl's laughter.

--

"So?" Ronald Weasley demanded of his best friend. "What did Dumbledore say?"

Harry sighed, and held on tightly to Ginny's hand as they walked the long path from the dungeons to the Great Hall for dinner. "He told me where Hermione was, without telling me."

"How does someone tell you something without telling you something?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes. "He either told you or he didn't!"

"What Harry means, Ron, is that Dumbledore just gave him the small additional amount of information he needed for Malfoy's information to make sense," Ginny said with a sigh, staring at her older brother as if he were dense.

Ron grinned without humor. "Thanks, Gin, that was really appreciated," he said sarcastically before turning his attention back to Harry. "You know you still haven't told me Malfoy's information, and I'm beginning to get offended. I thought we were best friends."

Harry frowned at his friend. "I'm sorry, Ron. This whole thing is just too complicated. I really think that it's not something for me to tell you. This is Hermione's story, not mine. It would be wrong to share it."

"To hell with Hermione's story! I want to hear it, and she's been gone forever! I'm sick of waiting for her to finally dub me worthy enough to be let in on the secret!" Ron yelled, his face turning red.

"Ron, it's not like that, really," Harry promised. "I'm going to see her tomorrow and hopefully I'll have more answers then. For now we really just have to be patient."

"Says the person getting all the answers!" Ron exclaimed sourly.

"Ron, enough!" Ginny shouted suddenly. "I'm sick of hearing you speak, so kindly _shut up_ until dinners over and I can get away from you."

"Mood swings much, Gin?" Ron accused. "Remind me to stay away from you while you're PMSing."

"Ron! I said shut up!" Ginny said, turning beet red, knowing just how wrong her older brother's words were, and being reminded once again of the news that she had to share with him.

"Fine, fine," Ron said, spotting the food at their table and hurrying away, leaving Harry and Ginny behind.

"Harry," Ginny groaned, "what on earth are we going to tell him? He's going to _kill_ you!"

Harry looked just the way Ginny felt; like he was about to vomit. "We'll figure something out, Ginny. Don't worry yet."

--

Hermione sat across from her psychiatrist, it being Saturday at 3 o'clock sharp. She silently counted the tiles on the floor as he droned on about something that was of no importance to her.

"Hermione?" Dr. Clark asked impatiently.

Hermione glanced up at the man. "I'm sorry, what was that? I wasn't listening," she said bluntly.

The doctor sighed, before repeating his question. "I asked if you were looking forward to Visiting Day tomorrow."

Hermione frowned and cocked her head. "Sure. Why not?"

"Who is supposed to be visiting you tomorrow, Hermione?" Dr. Clark asked.

"My friend, I believe," Hermione said passively.

"Really? Are you two very close?"

"We're friends. I don't think how close we are should really matter to you."

"Well, it's always better to get a visit from a very close friend rather than a distant one. It means much more."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Sure."

"Would you like to talk about something else?" the man asked politely.

"Doesn't really matter to me," Hermione said. _'It's not like I'm going to give you the answers you're looking for anyways,_' she thought to herself.

"How about we talk about how you feel about leaving next week?"

"If you want."

"Do you think that you've gotten anything out of your stay here?" Dr. Clark asked.

"I guess. My roommate and I are close."

"That's very good. Will you be sad to break those ties?"

"We plan to keep in touch."

"That's a good idea. What about the group sessions? Have those been helpful?"

"I don't participate much," Hermione said.

The older man looked confused. "My report from Dr. Luman says you've been doing quite well. He thinks you are moving along quickly."

'_That's because I flirt with him,'_ Hermione smiled to herself. "Well, I do sometimes."

Dr. Clark smiled reassuringly. "I see no reason as to why you won't be able to lead a completely normal life when you get out of here, Hermione. You're very bright, you have the ability to be friendly when it interests you, and I think you are a genuinely good person. You must promise me you will keep up with your therapy, though."

"Of course," Hermione said sarcastically, but she wasn't sure he caught the edge to her tone.

"Great!" he said happily. "Then you're free to go for today, Hermione. I'll see you again Monday."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled politely, getting up to leave the room. "You've been _loads_ of help."

--

"Hey, Harry," Hermione smiled in relief as she pulled out her chair, glad Ron wasn't accompanying him. She could only deal with so much in one day. "I'm glad Dra- Malfoy passed along the message."

Harry stared blankly at Hermione. At her toothpick arms which were exposed by her short-sleeved shirt. At her gaunt, haunted face. At her hair which had lost it's shine and thickness. Everything he used to remember as his best friend was no longer there. "Yeah," was all he managed to get out.

Hermione was frightened by the look in Harry's eyes. "Well…I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me. That's sort of what this is about. I think I'm finally ready to answer them."

Harry continued to stare at her. "Hermione, what _happened_ to you?"

Hermione swallowed audibly. "An eating disorder happened to me."

"So I've heard," Harry said, finally being able to tear his eyes off Hermione's body, and look at her face. "Anorexia."

"Yes," Hermione winced. "I was stupid. Things got out of hand and I winded up here."

"_Why_ though? You had so much going for you. I mean, I know that Ron and I were probably a bit distracted, and we weren't as close as we once were, but we were still there for you! You could have come and talked to us anytime you needed to," Harry exclaimed.

"I know, I know. It all just happened so fast, you know? One second we're so close and I'm fine with my body and the next… well the next someone opens my eyes as to how wrong I was," Hermione frowned, remembering. "As to how overweight I was."

"You were _never_ overweight, Hermione," Harry said fiercely. "Whoever told you that you were was dead wrong. I could quite literally kill them for saying it."

Hermione shook her head, looking down at the table. "It wasn't their fault, really. They didn't know what they were doing… what they opened my eyes to. I doubt they even meant it at the time, other than to just hurt my feelings."

"Hermione," Harry said, a tortured look in his eyes. "Who told you that?"

"It doesn't matter," she said. Then, when she knew he was about to object, "Really. I have something more important to tell you anyways."

Something more important? Harry didn't see how anything could be, but it still caught his attention. "What?"

Hermione paused, racking her brain for the right way to tell him. "I don't know how else to say this but to say it… Harry, my father… he died," she nearly choked on the word she hadn't used in so long. "There was an attack… death eaters…" she looked up at the boy across from her, stunned by his silence.

Harry never really considered himself a man of many words, but at this moment, the moment when he realized that in a way- maybe not the most direct way, but a way all the same- he was responsible for the death of his best friend's father, and therefore responsible for Hermione being stuck in this…_place,_ no words seemed to be enough to describe what he was feeling. Nothing could describe how sorry he was for bringing Hermione and her family into this. Absolutely nothing.

"Harry, say something. You're scaring me," Hermione said quietly.

"This is my fault."

Hermione's eyes instantly widened and she regretted telling him this at all. She should have known what he would say. "Harry, _no._ Don't you sit here and blame yourself, because I won't have it. I knew what I was getting into when I joined you in this. My parents knew what was going on to an extent too. Do not blame yourself for this, because that won't make me feel better. It will just make me feel worse."

"But, Hermione-"

"No. Don't you _dare_, Harry Potter. Don't make me wish I never invited you here."

Harry opened his mouth once more, and then closed it quickly. "Fine."

Hermione smiled slightly, hoping he believed her, praying that he realized that he was not to blame for this in any way. She glanced across the room to the clock hanging on the wall. "Well, we still have ten minutes left to talk. Anything else you want to ask me about?"

Harry nodded immediately, already knowing what his last question would be, something he'd been wondering for weeks. "Hermione… what the hell has been going on between you and Malfoy?" he demanded.

--

**A/N- I'll try to update quickly, but you all know that your reviews will speed up the process. So please, review!**

-_**Preview**_-

Draco grabbed the upper arms of the girl in front of him, shaking her slightly. "Granger, you don't just write a guy that he's the cause of everything horrible in your life and then ignore it! That isn't fair to me! I may have done some pretty shitty things in my life, and I have no doubt that I will continue to do so, but I do _not_ see how anything that I have done could have affected you getting sick!"

"Malfoy, let go of me," Hermione growled through her teeth.

"No! Not until you explain to me what you meant! Was that stupid letter just made up of lies to get my attention? Because believe me, Granger, you have it. Now speak! For once in your life, tell me what you're feeling! Let me in, if only for a second!"


	28. Hate Is Safer Than Love

-Previously-

**-Previously-**

**Hermione smiled slightly, hoping he believed her, praying that he realized that he was not to blame for this in any way. She glanced across the room to the clock hanging on the wall. "Well, we still have ten minutes left to talk. Anything else you want to ask me about?"**

**Harry nodded immediately, already knowing what his last question would be, something he'd been wondering for weeks. "Hermione… what the hell has been going on between you and Malfoy?" he demanded.**

**X X X **

-Chapter Twenty-Seven-

Hermione's eyes widened at her best friend's question. She felt her mouth suddenly get dry, and was fighting the random urge to get up and leave. "What…what do you mean, Harry?"

Harry sighed. He knew this was going to be difficult. "I mean, why does he always know what's going on with you before anyone else? Why was he the first one to notice your eating disorder? Why have you bothered to shed tears over him? And, before you ask, Ginny told me about the crying, although she hadn't the slightest idea why. She's your best girlfriend for merlins sake!"

"Harry…" Hermione muttered.

"And I do _not_ want some stupid excuse that you live together, so he knows everything first. It's more than that, Hermione. We both know it is. All I want to know is how much more."

"I…" she started, but realized she didn't really have an answer for him. There was nothing between her and Malfoy anymore, so was it really necessary for her to divulge information about their past? "I don't know what to tell you. There's nothing more to it anymore."

"What does anymore mean? Hermione, bloody hell, what is it going to take to get a straight answer from you?!" Harry asked, exasperated. "I saw you two in the hall one day. I know you held romantic interests in each other. What I want to know is: _are you currently more than friends with Draco Malfoy?_"

Hermione bit down on her lip harshly, almost taking comfort in the taste of blood in her mouth. "No, Harry, no. I am not currently more than friends with Malfoy."

Harry knew he heard the words, but still wasn't sure if he believe them. They sounded almost too good to be true. "Good," he sighed finally. "I've been worried about you, 'Mione. Being sick, and then on top of that, being Draco Malfoy's girlfriend? Or whatever it was you two considered yourselves, I don't even think I want to know. I do know, however, that I know I haven't been here for you enough, what with the war and everything, but you have to turn to me sometimes. All right Hermione? I. Am. Always. Here. To. Listen. I don't care if you have to tell Voldemort to shut up for a second during the final battle, I'll still be there. Okay?"

Hermione laughed, seeing just then how much she'd missed Harry. "Fine, fine. You don't need to worry about me. I'm back to the old me, you know, the one that takes care of _you?_" she playfully smacked him on the arm. "Just focus on what you need to do, Harry. I've got myself covered."

Just then, a loud bell went off, signaling the end of Visiting Hours. Harry shot his friend a shy smile, standing up and fixing the light jacket he wore. "I mean it Hermione. Open your mouth sometimes," he said, before giving her a quick hug and leaving the building.

**X X X**

"So, I guess our meetings are finally coming to a close," Hermione said happily.

It was a week later, and Hermione was seated across from Dr. Clark, her suitcase waiting expectantly by the door for the moment this session was over, and her mother would be waiting to bring her home, where she could Floo back to school.

"Finally? I feel that we haven't had nearly enough time together, Hermione."

"I suppose, that's too bad. You know how it is…"

"Yes, I'm afraid I do," said Dr. Clark. "Well, I have one final thing I want you to do for me. Something I think could help you greatly."

He had caught Hermione's attention. "Yes? And what's that?"

"I want you to write a letter." The older man was now pulling out a piece of plain lined paper, a pen, and an envelope from his desk.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I want you to write a letter," he repeated.

"But why? Who will this letter be to?" Hermione demanded.

"The person who has hurt you most in your life," explained Dr. Clark simply, as if he were discussing the weather. "I believe it is necessary if you ever want to heal yourself completely. Many girls with suffering from the same problems you are suffering from often hold a lot of blame inside, which they never feel comfortable letting out. I want you to do that. I want you to tell the person who has hurt you the most just how much they've hurt you."

Hermione stared at the man for a second. What on earth was the _point_ of this? She wasn't bottling up blame. "I don't think this is something that would benefit me, Dr. Clark."

"I am quite sure that it will, Hermione. I am also sure that after you write the letter you will share my opinion. This is not negotiable."

The brunettes eyes narrowed, and her mouth turned down into a frown. Who was he to tell her what to do? She glanced at the clock across the room; noon. Her mother was already here waiting for her session to be over.

Hermione sighed, the quicker she wrote this stupid letter, the quicker she could get back to Hogwarts, she reasoned. Feeling extremely annoyed, but also slightly motivated she grabbed the paper and pen and began to write, not even sure what words would appear on the paper.

_Dear Draco,_

_Well, it's my last day here at the Renfrew Center, so I guess in some ways that should mean I'm better, right? I guess in some ways I am. Others, I'm not so sure. I know that I will never be okay with sitting down and eating a full meal again- me and food will always have our issues, they're not something that are just going to go away. But, I think I now understand that what I was doing to my body was wrong, that I have so many things going for me and so many doors open…_

_Oh hell, who am I kidding? Three pointless weeks in this place didn't do anything. They just wasted my time, and my insurance company's money. Yes, I've gained weight back- not that I know how much, considering they weigh us while we face the other way- but what's to stop me from losing it all when I get home? This entire trip was for nothing. I'm not going to change, so everyone needs to stop trying to make me._

_I'm supposed to be writing a letter to the person in my life who has hurt me the most, which is where you come in, as you were probably wondering. I doubt you'll even read this once you get it. Hell, I doubt I'll even send it; but supposedly it's necessary for me to heal myself completely. Whatever that's supposed to mean. _

_I know you're sitting here reading this thinking 'what is this psycho mudblood rambling about now?' Well Draco, one thing being here has helped me realize is that you are what started me on this track. Do you remember the last week of school last year? The one where you called me fat? _

_Oh, I know what you're thinking now, 'is she really so sensitive that my one comment could effect her this badly?' Yes, I guess I am. What you said didn't hurt at first, not really. I mean, you were Draco Malfoy, that's what you did- tried as hard as you could to hurt people. But that one comment hit home so hard that that's all I could think about throughout the summer. I mean, let's be honest, you're gorgeous. You of all people would be able to tell if a girl was fat. So I dwelled on that comment, probably for a bit longer than I should have, but I still did. So I guess that's where this all started. Right there in that library._

_And somehow I ended up here. So, I guess technically you are the one person who hurt me the most. I'm not saying you did this with the intent for me to wind up in some Muggle hospital with an eating disorder; we both know you didn't mean for me to take it so seriously, but I did. So- not that you care- but, Draco Malfoy, you are the one person in my life who has hurt me the most._

_Regards,  
Hermione Granger._

Hermione quickly capped her Muggle pen, folded her letter into thirds, and shoved it in the envelope that was placed in front of her. "Done," she announced.

Dr. Clark smiled at her. "Do you feel better, Hermione?"

Hermione considered this for a moment. After a few minutes, she realized that she _did_ feel a bit better; kind of like a small weight was lifted off her chest. "I think I do."

"Great!" the doctor exclaimed, his face lighting up. "Well, I must say it's been a pleasure knowing you, Hermione Granger. I sincerely hope that we don't meet again in the future."

Hermione granted the older man a light laugh. "You and me both," she said as she got up and shook his hand.

Hermione strolled to the door, grabbing her suitcase as she opened it. "Have a nice life, Dr. Clark," she said before exiting, happy to realize that she did wish this man nothing but the best.

**X X X**

Hermione and her mother drifted to Jane's car, suitcases in tow. Hermione was still riding the high that writing Draco an honest letter had given her, wondering how far she could stretch it. Would it last until she got home? Until she got to school? Until she actually saw the blonde boy?

She climbed in the car, tuning her mother out and still considering the letter. It was apparent that Dr. Clark hadn't really meant for it to be sent, but what if she did send it? If she was honest with someone for once in her life would it explode in her face, or would it work out in the end? Would it make her feel the same way she felt now; like she had finally done something about her life?

"Mum?" Hermione asked, not even realizing she had completely interrupted the older woman. "Is Tup at home?"

Her mother looked surprised. "Yes, dear, he's in your room in his cage."

Hermione nodded, drifting back to her original thoughts as they pulled into the Granger's driveway. Jane got out of the car and took one of Hermione's suitcases inside, leaving the other for her daughter.

Hermione dragged the oversized bag up the front steps and into the house, deserting it in the front hallway and continuing up to her room alone.

"Here, Tup," she cooed gently as she opened her owl's cage door. She fished the letter to Draco out of her pocket and tied it to Tup's leg with trembling fingers. Was she doing something incredibly stupid?

"Take this to Hogwarts, Tup," Hermione instructed her owl. "To Draco's room personally. Don't drop it with the other mail in the morning."

The owl clicked its beak in understanding, before taking flight out the open window across the room from Hermione, leaving his owner to think alone.

**X X X**

"I do _not_ bloody care when the Troll Union decided to take action against the Wizards because of the Weapon Handling law!" Draco exclaimed, slamming shut his History of Magic book in frustration. "If Binns doesn't even have an interest in what he's teaching, why should any of us?"

The blonde's eyebrows were knit together in annoyance as he sat at his messy desk alone after dinner. He was just about to get up and grab his broom for a fly, when he heard a pestering tapping on his window, darkening his temper.

He crossed the room quickly to let in whatever annoying owl had such an urgent message for him that it couldn't wait until the morning's post, knowing it was most likely from his father. But, to his surprise, when he opened the window he was not greeted by the midnight black owl of his father, but a small chestnut brown, who hopped merrily into his room, already content here.

Wondering who this owl belonged to, Draco untied the letter from it's leg. After being relieved of its burden, the owl took off out the window without any further notice. Draco's name was written clearly across the envelope in a loopy script he'd know anywhere, causing panic to begin to build in the pit of his stomach. Why was she writing him? Was she trying to make this harder than it already was?

After momentarily considering tossing the letter straight into the fire, Draco ripped it open, his hungry eyes flying across the page as he read.

**X X X**

Hermione contentedly hung the last shirt from her suitcases up in her closet; finally back where she belonged- at Hogwarts. Ginny had already come and gone, after making Hermione promise she would come and visit her in Gryffindor Tower later on that day. Harry and Ron had stopped by quickly, on their way to meet Lupin in the Room of Requirement. Although Ron's strange behavior had been a bit distracting, overall it was nice.

Finally, the only person that really mattered anymore to Hermione had been locked in his room since she got there and hour before, not even bothering to show his handsome face; causing Hermione to wonder if Tup had even delivered her letter. Did he really have no reaction?

Wondering if she'd ever know what he thought about it, Hermione changed into a comfortable cotton nightdress her mother had picked up for her while she was at the Renfrew Center. After, she padded slowly into her bathroom, shutting the door connecting the two rooms as she brushed her teeth and washed her face.

Hermione grabbed the small towel that hung on the rack next to the sink and patted her face dry as she returned to her bedroom, not expecting what was to meet her there.

She looked up suddenly and gasped out of shock. "Draco…" she muttered. "Gods, you scared me."

He was staring at her flatly, no expression written on his face at all. His posture was clearly tense, arms crossed, standing straight up. This would have been enough to frighten Hermione, maybe make her turn around and lock herself in her bathroom, if it had not been for the fact that his eyes were the ones she knew and loved. They bore no resemblance at all to Lucius' eyes, they were all Draco. It was enough to make her hold her ground.

"Er…" she muttered awkwardly, not sure what to say to the boy, now that he was right across from her.

"What is _wrong_ with you Hermione?" he burst out suddenly. "What on earth were you _thinking_?"

So it was going to be anger. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, Draco. If you've just come here to fight, then I will have to ask you to leave me room," Hermione said coolly, strolling over to the door and opening it for him.

That was all it took. The moment where Draco Malfoy snapped. He walked swiftly across the room until he was standing less than a foot away from Hermione.

Draco grabbed the upper arms of the girl in front of him, shaking her slightly. "Granger, you don't just write a guy that he's the cause of everything horrible in your life and then ignore it! That isn't fair to me! I may have done some pretty shitty things in my life, and I have no doubt that I will continue to do so, but I do _not_ see how anything that I have done could have affected you getting sick!"

"Malfoy, let go of me," Hermione growled through her teeth.

"No! Not until you explain to me what you meant! Was that stupid letter just made up of lies to get my attention? Because believe me, Granger, you have it. Now speak! For once in your life, tell me what you're feeling! Let me in, if only for a second!"

Hermione stared at him, watched him lose himself in his emotion and wondered how after everything he could still do that. After what had happened lately, how could he still be this straight with her? She hated that he could always manage to spit out what he was feeling, but she had to struggle with the simplest of statements.

"You _hurt_ me," Hermione snarled at him, wrenching her arms free of him. "You did this to me! You are the reason I'm like this! It's funny isn't it," Hermione laughed humorlessly, "all this time you've been trying to 'help' me, when really you're the cause of it."

Draco stared at her for a long moment, his expression never softening or altering in any way. "You're lying. You don't blame me for this, Hermione. I can tell by your face," he finally said, each word filled with malice. "You blame _yourself_, you just don't want to admit it. The great Hermione Granger doesn't want to admit she did something wrong. You're right, I did try to help you. But I _can't_ anymore, Granger. You won't fucking let me. Well, when your ready to admit that this is your own doing, you come find me. Until then, I don't want to see your face."

Draco sidestepped around Hermione to get to the door, pausing slightly in the doorway, but not turning around to face her. "I realize that I may have had my role in this, and I will never be able to take what I did back, so there's no use in groveling to you about how sorry I am. But ultimately, Hermione, this was all you."

**X X X**

**A/N- Did you hate it? Did you love it? Review, let me know. I honestly love reading them.**


	29. Heaven Can't Have You

* * *

-Chapter Twenty-Eight-

Hermione Granger leaned farther over the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, the tallest and greatest tower of Hogwarts, barely noticing the rain as it slid down her bare face, arms, and chest. She peered down, estimating the drop and how long it would take to hit the ground. Half a second? Less? Would there be splitting, horrible pain, or would death come so quickly it'd all be over before she processed what she had done?

She slid an inch further on the beautiful marble ledge, hands gripping the edge so tightly that her knuckles were white. Would many really care that she was gone? Would Dumbledore mention her death at dinner the following night, or would he think that this was her own doing and deserved no recognition? He'd be right in thinking it. She wouldn't want the entire school to know what she had done; know what she had let become of herself. Although, she supposed she wouldn't care much when she was gone. Embarrassment is only for the living, you see.

She pulled her knee up, heaving her body up with it so she was now kneeling on the ledge, staring down at the ground below her; even in the dark, Hogwarts was beautiful. What would Draco think when he heard the news? He'd probably scoff, saying something about how weak she was, how he always knew she'd end up this way. He was right after all. She was the one who had messed up her life. She'd done this to herself; Draco was to blame for nothing. He'd tried to help her in as many ways as he knew how. But she'd always avoid. Always get mad at him, like it was his fault she was destroying herself. But he should have realized shortly after he'd started that she was unsaveable. Destined to be broken.

The rain began to fall harder, making her body shake and causing her hand that grasped the marble edge to have a difficult time keeping a grip. She had a fleeting thought of her mother, her husband dead, her daughter perched on the ledge of a tower. Shoving the thought out of her head she rose to her feet unsteadily, shaking freely now from the ice cold rain. She took a deep breath and held it.

"Hermione!" a voice called from inches behind her. Strong hands grabbed her waist and pulled her back. Back towards misery.

* * *

**A/N- I wanted a chapter that reflected my mood. This matched more exactly than I thought possible. So don't flame me for a bad chapter.**

**And, very short, I know. It's not even a page. There will be more coming very soon, I swear. Thank you to all of you amazinggg people who reviewed the last chapter, there were so many. Only 15 reviews until I hit 400! If you guys could get me there, I'd be so grateful. I love reading them. **

**Any guesses as to who grabbed her?**

_-Preview-_

He rubbed his eyes, the weight of the night feeling heavy on his shoulder. "But I saved her life," he said.

"I know, and everyone is very grateful for that. But the thing you're not getting is that she didn't _want_ it saved," the other boy whispered harshly.


	30. Sympathy For The Devil

-Chapter Twenty-Nine-

_(One hour before)_

He was right. The bloody git was right, of course.

Hermione stepped forwards and stood in the doorway of her room, watching Malfoy's retreating back as he headed to his own room. Shuddering in self-disgust, she closed the door gently and turned around to lean against it.

She had known sending that letter was a bad idea, but had done it anyways. Always searching for someone to blame for the way she was or her current unhappiness, when in reality it was always because of her. Malfoy hadn't done anything to deserve this. He had tried repeatedly to wrench her from this rut of misery that she seemed to be determined to reside in. Since when was that grounds for attack?

She wasn't worth the time of his day, she never had been. Undeserving; that's the one word that seemed to sum up Hermione Granger. Worthless, vile, and disgraceful were all good choices as well. She was a slow motion accident, leaving ruin in her wake. Everyone that she dragged into her pathetic excuse for a life would have been better off if she'd left them alone.

Hermione pulled her weight off the back of her door and crossed the room to sit on her bed, crossing her legs as she did so. She was so sick of the pretense of being happy, so sick of trying so hard to act normal. Why did she even bother? Everyone knew she was a sick, pathetic, hopeless cause; why even pretend for them anymore? It wasn't as if they all knew her so well anyways, at least not anyone but Draco. She could sit in front of Harry and Ron bawling and they'd probably mistake it for laughter. It was sick really.

She got up and pulled her nightgown over her head, exchanging it for a pair of jeans and a tank top. Grabbing a pair of sneakers, she strode out of her room and down the marble staircase, being very quiet to ensure Malfoy didn't hear her leave. Hermione crawled through the portrait hole, thinking she was in the clear, until it slammed shut behind her. Malfoy'd have to be deaf to not hear that.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, Hermione continued her journey, always knowing where she was going and what her purpose of going there was. As she climbed the long, winding stairs to the top of her favorite tower it struck her that she didn't even have a note. It was then that she heard the crack of thunder and the steady beating of rain against cement and knew she wouldn't be going back to write one.

As she reached the last flight of stairs, Hermione briefly took the time to wonder what would have happened if she had never gotten sick, if she would have just continued to be the brilliant third member of the Golden Trio, the one that never let them down, never let anyone down. The one who was on the fast-track to success. The one who had such promise.

Hermione strolled over to the ledge of the Astronomy Tower and was standing there when it occurred to her. It's always so much harder to breathe knowing that you had it made.

**X X X**

She was covered by a blanket. It was the first thing that registered in her mind when she was pulled from the zombie-like sleep she had been in. That, and that there was a shrill ringing in her ears. Why, she wasn't sure.

She kept her eyes firmly shut, not even bothering to investigate her surroundings further. She knew where she was of course; the hospital wing. She would probably be forced to stay there until they could figure out what to do with her, where to put her next. She was sure she wouldn't be allowed to stay at Hogwarts, just in case crazy was contagious.

Hermione heard a sigh to her right, and though it startled her she didn't move a muscle. Her mind seemed to be covered in a fog, a fog that made her not care who was sitting next to her bed, not care that she should probably do the polite thing and open her eyes to let them know she was conscious. No, she was quite sick of being polite.

"She hasn't woken up yet?" a voice suddenly asked, and footsteps approached her bed.

Both the ringing in her ears and the fog of uncaring made it impossible to identify the speaker. Not that she cared of course.

"No. Hasn't moved a muscle," a second replied. She guessed that was the sigh-er.

"Have you been sitting here all night?" the first questioned, this time with worry.

"Yeah."

Now the first one sighed. "You should get some sleep, Ron. There's nothing more you can do for her right now."

"I couldn't sleep if I tried. And I'd rather not try, thanks," Ron said through his teeth.

"Alright then. Do you mind if I stay?"

"Don't matter to me," said Ron.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Hermione didn't open her eyes, and she had no immediate plans to. Why get bombarded right now? She was far too tired both physically and mentally for that.

Ron suddenly sucked in a breath and let it out rather quickly. "Why the hell would she do this? How the _fuck _could she do this?" he demanded.

"Ron, I-"

"No, Harry. Don't defend her. Don't you dare. How could she do this to us, to her parents, to herself? Where the hell does she get off trying to kill herself?" Ron said hoarsely.

"Ron… Hermione has had a really tough year. I know you've been in the dark about everything, and that's partly my fault, but she really needs us, now more than ever. Before you bite her head off, just try to remember that, alright?"

"I'm not making any promises. You expect me to instantly forgive her for completely leaving me out of her life, just because I found her about to jump off the Astronomy Tower? That's the coward's way out, Harry, and Hermione has never been a coward."

Harry nodded, thinking the same thing, wondering what had happened in between him seeing her the previous afternoon looking much healthier than she had in weeks, happy to be home and being woken up at midnight by Ron telling him he'd just carried Hermione to the Hospital Wing. It just didn't add up. What he'd seen yesterday was not a depressed girl. A little broken maybe, a little worn, but not depressed, not someone who'd given up. The girl lying in this hospital bed though was a girl who had given up on life.

The only possible explanation was Malfoy, who Harry assumed was fast asleep in his Head's Quarters, oblivious that anything was wrong. It served the lousy git right, for not answering Harry's insistent knocks at one a.m.

"Ron, please," Harry said. "Don't be a foul bastard when she wakes up. You'll regret it, and she'll hate you for it."

Ron rubbed his eyes, the events of the night weighing heavily on his shoulders. "But I saved her life," he said.

"I know, and everyone is very grateful for that. But the thing you're not getting is that she didn't _want_ it saved," the other boy whispered harshly.

"Coward…" Ron muttered darkly.

Harry sighed and rose from his seat, shaking his head. "I have to go do something. Let me know if she wakes up before I get back, alright?"

"Where are you going?"

"To take care of a ferret," Harry grimaced, exiting the room.

**X X X**

Draco groaned as he rolled over in his all too comfortable bed, wondering who the bloody hell was pounding on his door at nine a.m. on a Sunday morning. The blonde lay there, debating whether or not he would get up and answer the door. Surely whatever annoying bastard who dared knock before eleven would get the point and go away. Although, by that time he was pretty sure he'd be far too awake to go back to sleep anyways.

So, with a sigh Draco rolled over again, placed his feet on the ice cold wood floor, and went downstairs without even bothering to put on a shirt, all the while praying he wouldn't run into Granger, and wondering why the hell she didn't just get the door.

He wrenched it open. "What the hell do-"

"Good morning to you too, Malfoy," Harry attempted a fake smile, but didn't quite make it.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco demanded, wishing he had just stayed in bed.

"I want you to let me in. And then I want to talk to you," said Harry simply.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "And why in Merlin's name should I let you do that?"

"Because if you don't I will hex you here and now, instead of allowing you to explain yourself," Harry growled, pulling his wand from his robes and pointing it at Malfoy's throat.

Draco narrowed his eyes, realizing this must have been about Granger and their little confrontation last night. Figures she'd run crying to Pothead and the Weasel. "After you," he said, raising an eyebrow and stepping aside so Harry could enter.

Harry drew back his wand and placed it securely back inside his robes before entering the room and taking a seat on one of the plush couches in front of the unlit fireplace. Draco sat in the armchair across from him, leaning forward on his elbows and staring at Potter.

"So, what did Granger say to get me in so much trouble?" he smirked.

Harry looked murderous as his question. "She hasn't said anything…yet."

"Then why the little visit?"

"What the hell happened last night, Malfoy?" demanded Harry.

"What do you mean? Between me and Granger? Nothing much, I suppose. I simply told her how it was."

"'Told her how it was'? What does that mean?"

"I told her the truth. And I told her to stop trying to blame me for everything that she's done wrong in her life. Although, I really can't see how this is any of _your_ business, Potter. Especially if she hasn't even told you what happened."

"Malfoy, I'm not fucking kidding around. What really went on last night?" asked Harry.

"Granger had the balls to tell me her eating disorder was my fault. I had the balls to tell her everything was hers. That's pretty much how it went."

Everything seemed to click into place for Harry then. Malfoy had told Hermione that she was responsible for everything bad that had happened to her this year, which was far from the truth. Her father dying was her fault? Her friends flaking out on her was because of her too? "Malfoy, you've ruined _everything_," he snarled, standing up and staring at the other boy angrily.

"What are you on about, Potter?" Draco asked, remaining seated.

"Last night Ron was hungry. You don't really know how he is, but when he gets hungry nothing can shut up his stomach until it's satisfied. So he grabbed one of my cloaks and headed down to the kitchens to get some food from the House Elves," Harry began, knowing that Malfoy had to understand exactly what he had done, exactly what he had pushed Hermione to.

"I'm sorry, Scarhead, but I really don't give a shit about Weasley's eating habits. You're wasting time where I could be sleeping. So if you have a point, get to it," Draco said, annoyed.

"I have a point, one that you'll definitely be interesting in, believe me," Harry said with rage filled eyes. "As I was saying, Ron went to the kitchens, ate some food, and continued back up to Gryffindor Tower. But, on his way he noticed Hermione climbing the stairs to another, nearby tower. The Astronomy Tower. Ron was obviously wondering why Hermione would be headed up there at midnight, the day she just got home, so he followed her."

Draco frowned, not liking the direction this story was going in. He had known he'd heard the bang of the portrait hole late last night, but hadn't thought anything of it, hadn't thought that Hermione would actually be leaving the dormitory after hours. He was obviously an idiot.

"When Ron reached the top of the tower, do you want to guess what he found?" Harry asked, a twisted smile lacking any humor marring his features.

Draco gulped. "No."

"Hermione, pulling herself to a standing position on the ledge in the pouring rain, that's what. She was seconds away from jumping before he grabbed her and she passed out in his arms."

Draco stared at Potter wordlessly, feeling very much as if someone had shoved something large down his throat, making it impossible to swallow.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

Harry looked surprised, never having seen such passion in so few words, especially not from a Malfoy. He almost felt sympathetic. "The Hospital Wing…but I don't know if you-"

He was cut off by Draco jumping up, grabbing a black t-shirt off of the side of the couch and leaving through the portrait hole.

"are wanted there," he finished lamely to a now empty room.

**X X X**

**A/N- Sorry, it took a bit longer than I had hoped it would take and it's a bit shorter than I had hoped it would be. I still have no computer, mines still screwed up and it's not looking too good, so I've been writing whenever I'm at my sisters. Hopefully I'll be starting chapter thirty. next weekend. Wow, it's so strange to think this story that I wasn't sure would reach chapter five, will now be on chapter thirty.**

**Thank you so much guys for getting me past 400, you're all amazing. I hope I didn't disappoint in this chapter, though I'm sure there will be things you guys don't like. I can't please you all, as much as I'd love to. Please review this chapter as well, it was a hard one to write.**


	31. With Arms Outstretched

-Chapter Thirty-

The strange thing about having once loved someone is that no matter how much you tell yourself that they don't matter anymore, or how often you have yourself absolutely convinced that you will never love them again, the instant you hear something horrible has happened to that person your heart stops. You are instantly paralyzed as your mind tries desperately to process the information, and as quickly as the sudden paralysis had come, it's gone and you are sprinting towards wherever they are at top speed. Or at least that was the case for Draco Malfoy.

After what had seemed like a mile, Draco finally reached the door to the Hospital Wing, but did not move to push it open. Instead, he stared at it for two full minutes. Would Hermione even want him there? Would he only make things much worse for everyone? Why would she even do this? Hermione deserved a nice long life, her story wasn't over, and it couldn't be. It occurred to him then that sometimes you die right in the middle of your life story. She wouldn't though, he wouldn't let her. Draco pushed the door open and entered the Hospital Wing.

Unfortunately, he didn't make it much further than that.

"What the _bloody hell _are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ronald Weasley demanded as he pushed him back against the wall facing Hermione's cot.

Hermione, still awake, heard the name Malfoy and instantly the fog covering her mind became slightly lighter, though still there.

"Weasley, you do _not_ want to fuck with me right now," Draco hissed, shoving the redhead off of him.

Draco took the ten paces that would leave him standing directly next to where Hermione lay with her eyes determinedly closed. She was not sleeping though; Draco knew that she breathed much deeper when in slumber.

"Granger, open your eyes," he instructed, staring down at her.

Her eyes stayed closed. Her breathing became a little less consistent.

"Hermione, we both know I know you well enough to know you're not sleeping. Now open your eyes or I'm leaving."

His last words were enough to cause the girl's eyes to shoot open and Draco grimaced. She should be wishing he would leave, not wanting him to stay.

Hermione slowly allowed her gaze to fall upon the blonde standing next to her bed, the fog making her have little to no reaction. Neither party said anything and Ron sat unusually quiet in the corner.

"Where are your shoes?" she asked finally, settling on what she considered a safe topic.

Draco looked taken aback for a moment, before he squinted his eyes in confusion and looked down at his feet. "I didn't put any on," he confessed.

"Well, that's strange."

"Not really. I was in a bit of a rush, you see," Draco said bitterly.

Hermione stared up at him. "I haven't the slightest idea why," she said with complete sincerity. "You told me you didn't want to see my face until I confessed that everything was my doing, which I've yet to do."

Draco's eyes narrowed in anger. "Well, considering the circumstances I decided to make an exception," he told her sarcastically.

The two stared at each other for a moment, Draco's face filled with pent up frustration, Hermione's solemn.

"Draco?" Hermione whispered, casting her gaze to her blanket rather than the blonde's stormy grey eyes.

"What?" he asked, unable to reconnect their eye contact.

"It's my entire fault. You did nothing wrong, absolutely nothing to warrant my behavior. You've been great, amazing really. I've messed _everything _up, haven't I?" Hermione questioned, still looking at her blanket as tears began to drip onto it. "Yes, I have. Of course I have. All the times everyone's tried to help me…I've just pushed them away, just kept pushing until I left them wanting nothing to do with me. I was wrong last night Draco, so wrong. None of this is your fault, it's all mine."

Draco suddenly became aware he was breathing too quickly and took a deep breath, letting it out in gust. "Hermione," he said, hoping to make eye contact. "Hermione, look at me."

The brunette continued to stare down at her blue blanket, tears still falling freely. Instead of asking her again, Draco gently grabbed her chin and pulled it up, until her wet brown eyes met his. He distantly thought he heard the sound of Weasley getting up and the door slamming behind him as he left the room, but Draco didn't dare look away.

"This is _not_ your fault," he told Hermione firmly. "It isn't."

"Draco, please don't try to make me feel better just because of what happened. That's my fault too; I should never have considered jumping."

"No, you shouldn't have. You should have come and talked to me, Hermione," Draco said. "No matter how angry I am with you, I could never ignore you when you need someone."

Slowly, a small sad smile began to spread across Hermione's lips and she nodded. "Draco?" she asked again, timidly.

"Yes?"

"I think I may…possibly…have a small…problem…with food," she mumbled, shrinking back against her pillows as she looked into the blonde's eyes.

To her immense surprise, a huge grin spread across Draco's face before he broke into full out laughter. Then, before Hermione could even register what was happening, he was kissing her. It was not the desperate kissing she had become accustomed to during the more difficult parts of their relationship, it was the sweet, elated kissing that they had only shared once before, the day after the ball, right before everything had turned to shit.

Unfortunately, the kiss was over before she was able to really enjoy it.

Draco was now on his knees next to the bed, grasping her hands in his. "Do you have any idea how good it is to hear you admit that?" he asked, his eyes practically glowing.

"Hopefully much better than it felt to say it," Hermione muttered. She was now certain the fog was completely gone, and she was in much higher spirits than she was ten minutes ago. "It's true, though. I can see that now. I mean, I know that I'm not suddenly going to be able to sit down with you and eat a three-course meal, but I think I'm ready to try. Slowly."

Draco rose from the ground and instead perched himself on the bed next to Hermione, leaning against her pillows and wrapping his arm around her. "Sounds good, Granger," he said affectionately.

Hermione smiled brightly and laid her head against his chest, staring up at the ceiling as Draco wove his fingers through hers. She was just feeling completely content when a loud voice ruined it.

"Hermione, what the hell is going on?" Harry Potter demanded, striding over to the bed which held the blonde and brunette.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "You had to ruin it, didn't you, Harry?" she asked, though not truly angry.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I tried to stop him," came the voice of Ginny Weasley, also to the left of her bed.

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione greeted the other girl politely. "How's the pregnancy?"

Ginny looked startled and her mouth fell open. "It's…er… it's fine, Hermione. How's the mental breakdown?"

Hermione smiled happily as she opened her eyes and looked at her and Draco's connected hands. "Absolutely amazing," she replied.

"All right, that's it," Harry interrupted. "What in the name of Merlin is going on here? I thought Malfoy was the cause of all this, Hermione."

Hermione finally looked up at Harry. "_Draco_ was the cause of _nothing_," she said firmly. "I'm the one that caused myself to end up here, so if you need to blame someone, you're looking at her."

Harry stared intensely at Hermione, as if trying to figure out whether or not she was telling the truth.

"We understand that you've been through a lot, Hermione," Ginny said. "Nobody blames you. We all just want to help you in whatever ways we can."

"Thank you, Ginny. I appreciate it. But I have a feeling that things may start to look up for me," Hermione smiled.

Ginny surveyed the image of Draco, who had been oddly quiet throughout this whole ordeal, and Hermione, who for the first time in a while looked really happy. "Are you together now?"

The brunette's smile faltered for a moment, and she turned to look at the boy next to her. Were they together? Would Draco ever want someone so completely messed up?

Draco simply looked back down at Hermione and smiled. "Yes, Weaselette, we're together," he answered, squeezing his girlfriend's hand quickly.

Hermione smiled and looked to Harry, who was staring at them silently. Finally, he nodded and took Ginny's hand, leading her out of the Hospital Wing and giving the couple their privacy.

**X X X**

**A/N- Sorry it took so long. I'm also sorry it's rather short. I wrote it all today while I was home sick. Please review?**


	32. The Heart Brings You Back

-Chapter Thirty-One-

Hermione Granger again woke up from her nap in a hospital bed. This is not a thing one ever becomes accustomed to, no matter how many times it has happened to the person. One would believe that a hospital bed would be comfortable -seeing as the person laying in it must already be in enough discomfort to be doing so- but, no. They are hard and shapeless. They do not dip appropriately under your weight, nor do the white sheets that always cover the mattress feel soft and welcoming; they were extremely crisp.

However, Hermione was not as upset by this as she normally would have been. Instead, she looked at the male laying beside her and smiled, completely content with where she was. The boy smiled back, and Hermione thought that even his eyes seemed like a brighter shade of grey.

"Hi," she whispered, grasping his hand in hers and staring down at them, memorizing the way they fit together.

Draco began to trace lazy circles on her hand with his thumb. "Hi."

"How long have I been sleeping? Were you awake this whole time?" Hermione asked with worry. She didn't want him to have stayed because he felt obligated.

"An hour or two," he smiled. "I didn't mind, it gave me time to think."

To think? She wasn't sure she liked that. What was there to think about?

"To think about what? I hope you're not tossing me aside already," she joked lightly, though her brow was creased with worry.

Draco smiled and shook his head. "And throw away the best thing that has happened to me in my life? I don't think so. You're stuck with me."

"Fine by me," Hermione answered. "But if you weren't thinking about us, then what were you thinking about?"

Draco hesitated and Hermione sighed. "I suppose you don't _have_ to tell me. Though it would be nice to know what's going on inside that head of yours every once in a while…"

"You're not going to give up, are you?" he asked her.

"Nope, so you might as well tell me and get it over with."

"Well, you were partially right," Draco murmured, "I was thinking about us, in a way. I was trying to figure out how this would affect my… situation. How my situation would affect you."

"Oh," Hermione whispered, visibly shaken by the direction their conversation was headed, "right."

"Yes," Draco agreed, "right."

"Draco?" Hermione asked after a few minutes. "Can I see it?"

The blonde squinted at her in confusion. "See what?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment, not sure how to request what she wanted. "Your left arm," she said carefully.

Draco's thumb stopped tracing. His right hand instantly shot to the sleeve of his left arm's robe, tugging it down harshly. "Why?"

Hermione thought about that for a minute. Why _did _she want to see it? "I think I need to see it. To accept that it's going to be there, always. To accept that it's part of who you are now."

"Hermione, _I_ can't even accept it, I don't want you to have to. You shouldn't even be _able_ to, for Merlin's sake. This wasn't something I wanted, and it will never be something I'm proud of."

Hermione sighed. She figured this wasn't going to be that easy. "Draco, I need this. If I'm going to be with you I need to see it."

"But-"

Hermione stared up at him intently. "Draco, please."

So slowly Hermione was not sure if he wasn't just straightening his robes, Draco pulled his left sleeve up a centimeter at a time, until it was bunched up at the elbow, completely exposing his forearm. As soon as the sleeve was all the way up, he turned his head and stared intently at the wall to his right.

Hermione took a deep breath and looked down, eyes widening at the slightly raised, blackened skin. She stared at the skull and snake for many moments, before slowly and carefully brushing her fingers over it.

Draco's jaw locked and his head snapped to look at her, only to find her looking back, searching his eyes.

"Did it hurt?" she breathed, fingers still tracing over the mark.

Draco's eyes closed for a second and he nodded. Hermione grimaced and her hand rose to roll down his sleeve.

"Thank you," she whispered, staring into his eyes. "I had to see it."

Again, he nodded, looking pained. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"It wasn't your choice; it was your father's. I hold nothing against you, Draco."

"I could have done something, I _should_ have done something. You should hate me, but you don't. I don't understand it," said Draco, staring at her in disbelief. "Don't you realize what I am now? Don't you realize what I'll have to _do_ now? Being Head Boy only makes it worse. I can floo to them whenever they wish. Don't you see what I'm going to become?"

"You're strong, you'll figure something out," was all Hermione said back, in a tone that said this was the end of the conversation. She just couldn't stand thinking about it.

Draco did not try to change her mind, he simply rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, wishing the answer to his problems were as simple as being 'strong'.

Luckily, neither Hermione nor Draco had to struggle to start a new conversation; they were joined quickly by Madame Pomfrey, who had just strolled out of her office.

"Mr. Malfoy, I assume there is some valid medical reason that I am unaware of as to why you are sharing a bed with Miss Granger," she scolded, looking down at the couple harshly.

Draco looked up at the older woman, innocence radiating from his very pores. "I apologize Madame Pomfrey, I was just doing what I could to console Miss Granger in her time of need."

"Very well, but I expect to see you doing so in the chair beside her bed from now on. Do you understand me, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked. "Heavens knows what Professor Dumbledore would have said if he were to walk in and seen the two of you."

The blonde boy smirked back at her, resisting the urge to laugh. "Well, I guess we are about to find out," he said, indicating that Pomfrey should turn around.

The older woman did indeed turn around and let out a little gasp as she did so. "I'm sorry, Albus, I wasn't aware you were here. I was just telling Mr. Malfoy to return to his chair," Madame Pomfrey said quickly.

However, the old man only chuckled and nodded as he watched Draco get up and take a seat beside the bed.

"Thank you Madame Pomfrey," Professor Dumbledore said, smiling gently. "Now, if you would excuse us, I would like a quick word with Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger."

"Of course. I'd best go see Professor Snape about a potion anyways," the medi-witch said, and excused herself from the room.

"Now then," Dumbledore said once the Hospital Wing's door had clicked shut behind her. "I believe we have some things to discuss Miss Granger."

Hermione frowned and bit her lip. Here came the part where they told her she was going to be kicked out of Hogwarts.

"I figured we might," she said to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled at the brunette and pulled his own chair up next to her bed. "I had a meeting with your mother and Professor McGonagall this morning. We believe it would be in your best interests to stay at school, where you feel the most comfortable. However, we will be lightening your class load. You will be required to choose two of your classes to drop. There is simply too much pressure on you to succeed."

Hermione was stunned, to say the least, but she was also battling anger. "But, Professor, the classes aren't what made me…" she trailed off, not sure how to say what she needed to say. "I mean they're not too much pressure, I can handle them, and I've _been_ handling them."

"Regardless, you will have to drop two, Hermione. This is non-negotiable. You will need the extra time to meet with your new psychiatrist and simply work on your own well-being. If you wish to continue on at Hogwarts, you must do this," the Headmaster said.

Draco took Hermione's hand and smiled at her. "This really isn't that bad, Hermione. At least you still get to stay in school."

This was true. She would still be there to spend time with Harry, Ron, and Ginny; she would still be able to extend her magical education, and most importantly, she'd still be able to see Draco whenever she wanted.

"Fine," she agreed. "I suppose that is reasonable."

"Great!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together and rising from his chair. "Now that this is settled, you may return to your dormitory this evening, and begin classes again the day after tomorrow."

Hermione smiled at the old man, thankful for his ability to always be understanding. "Thank you, Professor Dumbledore."

"No problem at all. Now, I must be going. I have to go speak to Mr. Filtch about the length of the list of banned objects on his door… four sheets of parchment really is a bit long," he smiled before he turned and exited the room.

**X X X**

**A/N- As always, sorry about how long it took to update.**

**Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter, although for some reason the number of reviews was substantially less than it normally is…**

**Please review, it only takes a minute and really does make me want to start a new chapter sooner.**


	33. Searching For A Former Clarity

-Chapter Thirty-Two-

"Now, are you completely positive that you're all right?"

Hermione sighed loudly and pushed herself to a sitting position in her comfortable four-poster bed. "Draco, dear, I love you, but if you ask me if I'm all right one more time I'm going to have to kill you," she said with a deadly glare. "I am perfect. I'm back in my own bed, in my own dormitory, with my own boyfriend by my side. I could not be more all right."

The youngest Malfoy smiled briefly, before his expression returned to the pensive frown it held moments before. "I just want to make sure you're okay. And happy."

"I cannot even express to you how happy I am, how happy _you_ have made me. Trust me, Draco; my happiness is not something you have to be concerned about."

This seemed to cheer the blonde up, and he perched himself on the edge of Hermione's bed. "Can you promise me something?" he asked.

"Anything."

"Never do that to me again. Never try to end your life again, Hermione. You are too bright, beautiful, and unique to not exist. There is so much you haven't done yet, so many contributions to the world that you haven't made, but you will. The Wizarding World needs you here…_I_ need you here," Draco said, leaning over to plant a kiss on her forehead.

Hermione smiled and leaned into his kiss. "I promise," she whispered.

"Good," Draco said, pulling away and rising to his feet. "Now that that's settled, I think it's time we both get some sleep. I have a feeling you'll have many visitors tomorrow, and I have class. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night," Hermione said, watching him as he gracefully strolled across her room towards the door. "Oh, Draco?" she called as he pulled it open.

He turned back to look at her. "Yes?"

"I love you," she told him, smiling impishly.

A broad grin swept across his face as he said confidently, "I love you too."

**X X X X**

The next morning, Hermione woke early and decided to take a quick shower and make herself look presentable before heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast. By now, the entire school must have heard about her stint in the Astronomy Tower, and she was not going to look like they must expect her to on her first outing.

After the steamy shower, Hermione quickly muttered the spell to dry her hair into a silky straight ponytail and padded over to her closet. She pulled out a dark pair of jeans and a short-sleeved t-shirt, changing quickly before heading over to the tall mirror that hung on her wall. Upon viewing her reflection Hermione let out a quick gasp.

Her eyes grew wide as her fingers traced over her hip bones that protruded too harshly, then swept to her gaunt face and toothpick arms. Her collarbone jutted out unnaturally and her nails were a dingy yellow.

Hermione stepped away from her mirror in disgust, and she slid her feet into flip flops before walking to Draco's room and knocking on the door.

"Come on in, Hermione," the boy called from somewhere within.

Hermione burst into the Slytherin's room, slamming the door behind her. "How on _EARTH_ can you stand to _look_ at me?!" she screamed.

Draco's expression became stunned as he tried to figure out what his girlfriend meant. "Hermione, what are you talking about?" he questioned.

"What am I talking about? What am I talking about!" she yelled, her face turning a delicate shade of red. "I'm _talking_ about how I look like a holocaust survivor! Or a cancer patient! Take your pick!"

"You don't look like anything of the sort," Draco said. "You look lovely."

"Don't lie to me! My hair is thin, my bones stick out, my face is sunken, my nails are yellow; shall I go on?" she asked. Then, when he didn't answer, "My jeans are a size zero and won't even stay up properly, it is no longer necessary for me to wear a bra, my shirt looks like something that would fit a six-year-old, and _I can't stand to look at myself_!" she finished, tears falling onto her cheeks.

Draco slowly walked over to her and wrapped her in his arms. "You are beautiful, Hermione Granger," he whispered in her ear. "I never want to hear you say anything to contradict that."

Sobs wracked her body as he continued to hold her, rubbing small circles on her back and kissing her hair. "I love you, Hermione. The fact that you no longer see yourself as fat is a miracle, but I don't want you to see yourself as disgustingly thin either. We'll get you healthy again, I promise."

Hermione nodded against his chest and took a deep breath before pulling away and wiping her eyes on the back of her hands. "I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean to freak out like that."

Draco smiled gently. "I'm always here to listen to your freak-outs, don't forget that, okay, Hermione?"

"I won't," she promised, returning his smile.

"Good, now that that's settled, why don't we head on down to the Great Hall and get some food? I know that I for one am famished."

"Sounds good," Hermione agreed, linking her hand with his and dragging him out the door.

**X X X X**

Sadly, the happy couple parted ways once they reached the Great Hall- Hermione to the Gryffindor table to sit with her friends and Draco to Slytherin to eat with his housemates. Hermione strolled over to the long table slowly and perched herself on the bench next to Ron, who was seated across from Harry and Ginny.

"Good morning," she murmured happily, sending calculating glances at her three best friends.

Ginny smiled warmly. "'Morning, Hermione. Sleep all right?"

"Quite well, thanks," Hermione replied with a relieved sigh. She turned to look at Ron. "What about you, Ron? How was your night?"

Ron glared down at his oatmeal, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Just dandy, actually. I mean, it was kind of boring considering I didn't have to save anyone from offing themselves, but I managed to get over it."

Hermione visibly flinched and Harry kicked Ron sharply in the shin underneath the table.

"Must you be such a git, Ron?" he demanded.

"Yes! I see no reason why I should sit here and pretend like everything is just lovely. Everything isn't lovely, Hermione! Everyone else seems to have forgotten that you tried to _kill_ yourself, but I haven't!" the redhead shouted. "And I'm sick and tired of being left in the dark about everything. I'm always the only one who doesn't know!"

Only silence followed Ron's explosion. Ginny stared at Harry, feeling horrible for leaving her brother out of such a huge secret in her life. Hermione stared at the table, wondering how she was ever going to explain to Ron all she'd been through and apologize for not telling him sooner. Harry stared back at Ginny, hating himself for lying to his best friend.

"Okay, Ron," Hermione finally said, "let's go talk in my dormitory."

Ron rolled his eyes but rose from his seat. "Oh, lucky me, I finally get to know what the hell is going on!" he squealed.

Hermione sighed and led the way upstairs, Ron quick on her heels. She spoke the password that let them into the Common Room and settled herself on a love seat, folding her legs underneath her. Ron followed her example and dropped onto the sofa.

"All right," Hermione started. "Well, first of all I want to apologize for leaving you in the dark about so many things these past few months. I never meant for it to be like that and as hard as it is for me to admit, I have been pretty focused on myself lately, and not so much on others.

"Second of all, I want to thank you for saving my life, Ronald. I know it's been a couple days and I should have apologized to you right after it happened, but I don't think I could fully appreciate and feel grateful for what you did before I had time to process things."

"That's all well and good, Hermione," Ron said shaking his head, "but I want to know the bloody reasons _behind_ all of these things, not your apologies. I want to know why you disappeared. I want to know why you've been so distant. And I definitely want to know why the hell you tried to commit suicide!"

Hermione laughed lightly. "Always in such a rush, aren't you? I was getting to that, if you would just shut up and listen!"

"I'm listening."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Ron, I have anorexia," she announced. "When I disappeared I was in treatment for my eating disorder. For the past few months I've been in denial, blaming everyone but myself and shutting everyone else out. I wouldn't admit for a second that I had a problem, even to myself. And for a while I was managing it, it wasn't so bad that I needed help.

"But then something else happened. Something that I wasn't ready for; something nobody can ever prepare themselves for," she told him, her lip quivering and her voice cracking.

"Hermione, you know you can tell me. I'm here for you. Just tell me what happened," Ron pleaded.

Hermione shook her head and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down, blinking away the tears that had started to build in her eyes. "My dad died, Ron. He's gone. He's gone and he's never coming back. And it's my entire fault."

Ron's mouth dropped open and he stared at the girl sitting across from him dumbfounded. "Hermione…I-"

"Shh, Ron, let me finish," she hushed him. "If I had never come to Hogwarts, if I had never gotten myself so involved in this war, if I could have just been satisfied with a normal Muggle life, then he would still be alive. My mother would not be living in a house by herself and I would still have a father. I've messed it all up for my family."

"Hermione, you can't control this," Ron said with passion. "If it hadn't been Voldemort, it could have been something else. You could never have known this was going to happen, and I'm not going to listen to you blame yourself. It's not your fault, Hermione, it's not."

Hermione nodded, staring off into the distance, obviously lost in thought. After a moment, she seemed to snap out of it. "Ron, I have something else to tell you," she whispered, staring at the floor.

"Well go ahead then, 'Mione. Nothing can be as hard to get out as what you just said, can it?"

She nodded in agreement and decided to just say it. "I'm dating Draco."

"Draco… Draco Malfoy?" Ron demanded, turning a delicate shade of red.

"That would be the only Draco either of us knows, Ronald. And don't you dare try to lecture me, you know it will get you nowhere. Besides, Harry's fine with it."

"_Harry's _fine with it?! What the bloody hell is wrong with him? You can't be with _Malfoy_, Hermione! You're better than him! He's going to break you!"

Hermione glared. "What do you think I am, Ron, a china doll? Give me more credit than that. I know what I'm doing, so I really don't want to hear it. I love him. I love him and I want to be with him, and that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm seventeen years old, I believe that's old enough to decide who I can love and who I can't. I don't need your acceptance, Ron, but I would love to have it."

There was silence. Silence as Ron glared at his best friend. Glared at her and thought. "You're right, Hermione. You are old enough. I'm not going to like the relationship, but I'll acknowledge it. But, I am going to say this; be careful with your heart, he's just the type of guy who will shatter it."

Hermione nodded, and got up to hug him. "Thank you, thank you so much, Ron," she said into his shoulder.

Ron pulled away and smiled at her. "You're welcome. But because I did this for you, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything," Hermione agreed willingly.

"Tell me why the _fuck_ Ginny and Harry haven't had the decency to let me know I'm going to be an uncle," he demanded, voice full of rage.

**X X X X**


	34. Author's Note

Hey, everyone. I know nobody has heard from me in quite a while, and although I have some of the best excuses in the world (I had a baby, I moved, etc.) I am so sorry. Basically this note is just asking if anyone is still interested in reading my story. I'm definitely interested in finishing it now that things have slowed down a little, but first I would like to know if I would even have any readers. So, please, leave me a review if you'd be interested in reading and if I have even a handful I'll continue.

Thanks!


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